


I am Blessed

by morgianesff



Series: The Saga of Nora [7]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Family Dynamics, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Injury Recovery, Iron Man 3, Recovery, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:39:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 75,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7946611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgianesff/pseuds/morgianesff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(WIP) My past... is pain. My present... is betrayal. And my future?... it's not there. I let myself slip away to escape everything. But then he came. He found the fragments of me and made me take them back. He dumped them like puzzle pieces on the floor and then he left them there. He gave me everything back, and still took half of it with him. He left. What do I do with this hate now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

CHAPTER ONE

* * *

WEDNESDAY, MAY 9TH 2012

1001 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

It's been three and half days since the park, and nothing's really improved, not since the second we confirmed her heart was still beating.

My little sister was kidnapped, emotionally and physically abused as well as mentally manipulated before we found her. Before we freed her from her captor, and sent him away to be punished for his crimes.

Then Steve told her that, and she made a bunch of police officers shoot her. He told her she was free, that she was safe. She smiled a little when she heard those words, and then she chose an assisted suicide by bullets.

None of the guys have taken that well, not that I have either.

Clint attacked the cop that fired first, the officer he went out to search for her with. He tackled Officer Saunders to the the ground and was set on punching his face in! But he wasn't the only cop who pulled the trigger. Clint almost got himself shot for that, and would have if there weren't S.H.I.E.L.D Agents around.

As for Steve, all he was focusing on was her. A bullet hit her in the shoulder and the chest. One grazed her neck as she fell, its original target probably something else, and the rest missed but that didn't fill any of us with relief because the water around her was turning crimson even as Steve lifted her body out of it less then a second later.

He pulled her out of the pond to opposition. There were more police than S.H.I.E.L.D on the scene, and most of them still mistakenly believed she was Loki. That belief didn't really matter though because she gave them a very personal reason to hate her. She attacked a cop, two cops. One was found suffering from a concussion. While the other one, the one she held hostage in the lake, he was still struggling to move his own muscles right.

They were willing to fight us, to take that risk if it meant making sure she stayed down. At least until the army arrived as backup. Apparently we owe Secretary Pierce for that one.

With the military backing us up, and giving us the number of superiority we lacked before, things went a lot smoother.

The arrival of an ambulance helped immensely too. We sent Bruce and Tony back to STARK Tower so they could get things ready, and work the surveillance side of the search. The timing of the ambulance told me it was already on its way even before Nora motivated a firing squad to take her down. _God bless Stark, and whatever foresight made that decision, artificial or otherwise._

We took her back to what was left of STARK Tower, and the amount of trauma surgeons I saw signing NDA's told me they saw the way our rescue ended.

The surgery was interesting, just as much as it was complicated, nerve-wracking and long. On the outside, Nora looks just like a normal human woman. But on the inside her anatomy is very different from ours. That meant the surgeons had to familiarize themselves with what the S.H.I.E.L.D files contained about her biology, and figure out the rest on the fly. Such is the fact that her body was closing their incisions minutes after they were made. The skin was actually growing around the tools!

Their solution to that still makes me cringe. They end up coating the spreaders in a mild acid gel. _A necessary evil._ I kept telling myself. They had bullets to remove, and internal bleeding to deal with. _She's unconscious, she doesn't feel it._

That was a comfort, until we realized she was staying unconscious. One by one we all came to accept that reality. Some of us took longer than others, mostly due to stubbornly clinging to hope, and the wishful thinking of 'any time now'. But that was four days ago. I know that's too soon to give up hope entirely, but it's long enough to suspect that this might be a while.

Banner thinks it might be caused by the mark on her chest. We're calling it a tattoo, only because we don't have a better word. But tattoos don't writhe, silently go though the motion of a hiss, or flick their two dimensional tongues at you. Whatever it is, despite it being 'ink' in her skin, it displays awareness, and the mannerism of real serpents. It's what's under the mark that's got us all concerned.

It's an independent nervous system, and as far as we can tell its parasitic. Its 'brain' seems to be the mark itself, simply because the densest concentration of the nerve tissue rests on her chest and has burrowed through her sternum to wrap around her heart. That's as close as it gets to a traditional brain. Typically the brain sends and receives signals from the nerves in equal measure.

As far as we can tell this 'brain' just receives signals from this 'nervous system', but the better word is drain. It seems to constantly collect energy from the rest of her, and channels it toward the mark, but what it does with it we aren't really sure, because it seems to vanish there, not redirect around her body.

Whatever it is, it's hurting her, and there's nothing we can do. How do you remove a nervous system, short of killing the person its inside? Banners suggestion was to put her under sedation for a few days, despite her unconsciousness. They could safely study the mark without risking her waking up in the process, and to give her more time to recover that way.

Clint looked ready to punch Banner over that. He demanded its removal, he even went as far as trying to put her on the surgical table himself. 'He put it on her' Clint said, 'that thing came from Loki, he knew it, and it couldn't stay. We needed to free her from everything of his!' Banner looked at him, and calmly asked Clint if he was going to take responsibility for ordering her murder.

Clint just wanted to set her free. He thought he did when Thor took him away, and then he found out that even putting a universe between them, Loki still won. Loki still had Nora, his ownership literally lived in her skin. _Loki smirking before we sent him back to Asgard. This was his final hand._ All our efforts amounted to nothing, because he still had chains on our sister.

Clint couldn't do anything. All his training, strength, and good intentions didn't mean a thing. All he could do was stand helpless and watch as Nora slept through her suffering, her breath fogging the mask on her face.

He's been spending all his time doing the one thing he can, letting his frustration run him ragged. I've had to intervene a few times a day, to get him to eat and sleep, but as soon as he can he is right back at it. Firing arrow after arrow into that oak tree. The side of it is so pock marked its almost pulp now, and looks as if a beaver has been chewing at it. He keeps going until he can barely pull the string back, and there are blisters on his fingers despite the gloves.

That's led to other problems amongst us, particularly with the relationship between Clint and Steve ever since they returned from Coulson's funeral.

* * *

WEDNESDAY, MAY 9TH 2012

1005 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"Nora please, put the weapon down. You're safe. It's over"

"It is never over."

"Nora! Nora NO! PLEASE! PLEASE NO! DON'T DIE PLEASE NO!"

"Nora please, put the weapon down. You're safe. It's over"

"It is never over."

Nora! Nora NO! PLEASE! PLEASE NO! DON'T DIE PLEASE NO!"

"Nora please, put the weapon down. You're safe. It's over"

"It is never over."

Nora! Nora NO! PLEASE! PL..."

The video suddenly changed to a black screen and silence, and was replaced by another voice. "You need to stop watching that Steve." _Natasha._

After Nora was stable, and wouldn't die at any moment Natasha came to me with Agent Barton. They both had the same thing to say. S.H.I.E.L.D could not be allowed to take Nora this time. I didn't understand completely, but I knew they knew more about the situation then I did, so I didn't question it. We needed to take her somewhere else, somewhere that could keep her safe.

That problem solved itself thanks to another woman with red hair. Miss Potts. She was present at the Tower when we carried Nora inside, covered in blood and filled with bullet holes. So when she overheard our discussion she volunteered her cabin, and made it very clear that it wasn't an offer. I got the feeling there was more behind that decision then sympathy for an injured woman, but it didn't seem appropriate to ask at the time.

She called it a cabin, and while it was made with wood and stone, it didn't match the image I thought of with that word. Cabins in my opinion didn't have two story windows, an A.I butler, a indoor pool with glass walls to let you view the swimmers, or a hospital wing being added to the basement just for our arrival. Then again, it was a STARK owned property so I suppose I shouldn't be anything but grateful, which I definitely am.

I've also been far too idle. My best friend is down in that basement, hooked up to various monitors and equipment, which all say the same thing. She is alive. I should be happy about that. But I don't think she wants to be.

I sat down there earlier, but after a while they make me leave that room. If they didn't, I'd still be sitting at her bedside, waiting and hoping. They tell me it's so the nurses can work, but I know it's mostly because they're worried how it is affecting my state of mind. Not that I'm doing it any favors even when I'm not at her side. The video Natasha shut off proves that easily enough.

* * *

WEDNESDAY, MAY 9TH 2012

1006 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

He didn't even seem to notice me enter the room, he was that distracted by his misery. Not that I needed to get his attention to gain access to the room. This house has its own J.A.R.V.I.S installed in its walls. If Steve didn't want company, all he would have to do was tell the A.I to adjust its privacy protocols. Instead when I asked if Steve was available, the A.I confirmed it, and opened the door.

That made me suspect he set the privacy to such a low level out of the hope of good news. The name in the first question he asks confirms that. "Is Nora alright?"

"She's fine. She's still the same" I answer his question, and crush his spirits with the news, then I make a move to keep him from grinding his own further into the dirt as I close the remote app. "J.A.R.V.I.S please move that video to a private server." That sentence is met with a look of betrayal, but when the A.I agrees and asks if there will be anything else, there is no objection.

Instead he just looks lost as he sits in a room furnished in rounded oak squares and rectangles. The room suits him in a way, in its functional simplicity. Though that's not why he picked it. Its right next to the in law suite that will be Nora's, when she gets better and wakes up.

"She aimed a gun at me." Guilt is a crippling thing, even for a Super Soldier.

"Her finger wasn't on the trigger, she wasn't going to shoot you." Especially when that guilt is mixed with confusion and questions.

"I know, J.A.R.V.I.S enhanced the footage." I figured as much. He was studying the video, trying to find a reason in it, trying to find answers to a question that most likely has none. What did he do wrong? Everyone always looks for the answers to that question, not realizing that it usually has nothing to do with them. "She looked relieved."

"Steve..." He interrupts my attempt at comfort even as he lets me join him on the edge of the bed, a testament to how upset he is.

"No, she looked happy that they shoot her. I told her she was safe and that's what she choose. Why would she want that?"

Letting out a resigned sigh I give him the depressingly hard truth. "It's called Stockholm Syndrome. The victims end up viewing forming unhealthily attachments with their captors, Loki is skilled at manipulating people, and he kept her isolated for the longer half of a week without any means to measure time. We don't know what that did to her mental state, and we won't until she wakes up. She would have done that no matter who told her Loki 'abandoned' her."

"I know..." he says after a moment of silence. "I um, I did the research. I just can't reconcile her with the woman I..." I can see the frustration cutting off his words "How did you stomach lying to her like that?" before I realize it's not just frustration.

* * *

WEDNESDAY, MAY 9TH 2012

1007 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"It was a decision above my pay grade." I don't hit women. That's not the kind of man I am. The only exception I might make would be if it was in defense of my life or that of others. Neither is the case right now, Natasha is just sitting there passively.

But after hearing her say that so casually I won't pretend part of me isn't tempted to break my own rules. "That supposed to make me feel better?"

* * *

WEDNESDAY, MAY 9TH 2012

1008 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

"No, but this might. It was lie to her or kill her." The steel of his scowl softens considerably at that.

"She started as an assignment of Clint's that I came in on, but we never liked lying to her." I submit in the spirit of full disclosure. "She was an individual with unknown abilities. The popular opinion was to take care of the threat before it had a chance to become one. Fury was able to convince the Council that her potential was worth too much to just throw away. But that's not what I came here to talk to you about."

The first third of his question is spoken through his expression. "And what else would we be talking about?"

The last is communicated through his expression as well. "Clint wants to speak to you, before he leaves."

* * *

WEDNESDAY, MAY 9TH 2012

1010 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

CLINT

* * *

_Hm, I'll give it to Natasha, that didn't take long._ Rogers found me on the landing between the lower deck and the glass pool wall, leaning against the house using a bent arrow head to scrape the debris out from under my nails.

Natasha puzzled out on her own what I intended to do, and she was just as excited about the idea as the Captain's angry footsteps tell me he is, but she was more subtle about it. I told her about what Nora remembered outside that Shawarma joint, and we've talked about it. She even offered to help but I asked her to stay. Nora is going to need the female perspective when she wakes up. She got that, now I just need to make him understand.

* * *

WEDNESDAY, MAY 9TH 2012

1011 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

Natasha told me what he had planned, and the last four days of my frustration finally got the better of me. His behavior has been bothering me ever since Nora was moved out of surgery.

That day Nora was declared stable which was wonderful news, that was given to a room that he was conspicuously absent of. Then when we were asked to attend the Agent Coulson's funeral, he was the first to say yes, he practically volunteered before the question was finished. I was convinced to go as well, ultimately because the man's sacrifice did give us the push to unify as a team. We wouldn't have become the Avengers, and we wouldn't have worked together so well, we wouldn't have turned back an alien invasion. The man died a hero, the least I could do as his hero was honor that.

But ever since then, I haven't seen him even set foot in that basement, the one where a woman he supposedly loves as a sister might be fighting for her life, and now he intends to leave. I kept my opinions to myself out of respect to Nora, but out of the same respect I'm not going to do that anymore. "I haven't seen you visit her yet."

I intended to handle this conversation like a decent man but his response really isn't encouraging any warm feelings. He shrugs with a chuckling smirk. "I'm just peachy today, thanks for asking."

Since he seems dead set on avoiding the issue with witty remarks, I'm just gonna get right to the point. "She calls you her brother Agent Barton the least you cou..."

It seems that he is a bit more of a short fuse then I expected. "I know what she calls me! And you don't get to bring that up!" But not quite short enough it seems to take it to a physical level.

After he says that, he shakes his head with a bit of hiss, and walks over to the barrier of the half wall, turning his back to me in a clear effort to cool down. "She told me about you, ya know..." He sounds a little amused when he says that, but I have no expression visible to judge it by, so I just let him continue.

"She told me about Christmas, and New-Years, and how you were the one there when she got the apartment. She told me how you met, about the way she fixed your hands..." There's another moment of silence, and this time I can see his head turn like he's popping his neck or shaking away a pain. "She trusts you, you're good to her."

"She trusts y..." He doesn't let me finish that sentence, cutting me off with a flat "SHUT UP." As I watch his fingers turn white from gripping the wall.

"She trusts you Captain, so I'm gonna got out on a limb here and trust you too." Crossing my arms I resolve to wait patiently, I can hear it implied in there, he's gonna asking me for something. It's also clear that whatever the request might be, it's not an easy one so I'm not gonna interrupt.

It takes him a second, cementing my guess that he doesn't like idea of what he's about to ask me. After a moment of fidgeting though he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks to the sky. "I gotta go do something and I need you to take care of her for me."

"No you don't." It may not be my place to make that demand, but there is no way I'm letting him run away from her like that. "All due respect Agent Barton, I don't know what happened between you two out there, but whatever you think you have to do, it's less important then going to see her. she very well might be dying in there so you're not go..."

"I put a knife through her leg and tore off her clothes, I know what her blood tastes like on my tongue now, and how her thighs fit against the palms of my hands. You want more details about what you didn't know happened? Still think she'll want to see her 'brother' when she wakes up?" There's no life in his voice or his eyes when say that, and it stops me in every conceivable track.

"You..." I don't even need to use more words, he knows what I mean.

"Yeah, me. That's why I don't go in that room. Now that's she's safe I don't deserve to be near her anymore, probably shouldn't even be in the same building."

"It wasn't you Barton, you weren't in control of yourself." I offer, trying to give him some comfort while at the same time trying convince myself that I shouldn't beat him to death right here on this porch!

He snorts with a pained smirk "Cause it was only my body that wanted to rape her works great when I wake up remembering the feel of her fighting my hands and her screams in my ears." His sentence making question why i'm trying to strengthen my resolve on the latter in the first place.

"Did you actually..." Again I don't need to finish that sentence. "No,.." This time his chuckle sounds both relieved and pained. "...we wouldn't be having this conversation if I did." I don't need that translated either, his tone makes it pretty clear. He would have killed himself if he had, long before I felt that temptation curl my fists.

"Then why leave?" He rolls his eyes at me like the answer should be obvious, and I do get it, I can't imagine what that would feel like to be around her with a memory like that, other than to know it would be terrible. But my point still stands. "Why not stay, and work through it. You can't redeem yourself if you're not here, you know that right?"

"Redeeming myself is half of why I'm leaving Captain." I want to protest what is clearly a bad decision made for good reasons, but once again he says just the right thing to make me be quiet. "She has a daughter. I promised her I'd find that kid and bring her back."

That's right Nora's a mother! I forget that because the revelation was so recent, and it got buried under my worry for her. That was almost more shocking than the fact she isn't human.

Nora always loved children, even though she was pretty resigned to the fact she would probably never have one of her own. Sure modern medicine has found ways to get around the 'traditional way' to get pregnant, but still, how unfair would it be to have a child you couldn't stand to touch. By that logic she couldn't even adopt if she wanted to, so she sort of just accepted her fate. But now, or realistically always, she has a daughter out there somewhere.

"She remembered..." He answers that unspoken question with a nod. "...She knows who she is again. Which is why it's gotta be you, you're probably the only person in the world who hasn't lied to her or used her. You better keep it that way too Captain, or I'll find a way to hurt you."

The threat may have been amusing, or even annoying, if not for level of sincerity that it was spoken with. He may not thinks he deserves to be called that anymore, but those are are definitely the words of a older brother. "You have my word..." His eyes don't connect with mine as I say that, because they're too busy focusing on the offer of my hand. " ….as a fellow soldier."

At the 'soldier' he smirks with a huff before he accepts my handshake. "Let's never call me one of those again okay?" I nod in agreement, but then tightening my grip to keep him in place I use my other hand to punch him in face, because after admitting what he almost did to her, he had it coming.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

CHAPTER TWO

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1158 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

BRUCE

* * *

It's been exactly a week since I took Miss Elaine on as a patient, five and a half days since I approved her transfer to this location, and three days since Barton left the house after he ask me for an injection of local anesthetic to numb the hairline fracture in his jaw. I didn't ask why he stumbled into the infirmary minutes after Captain Rogers took a bandage for his knuckle, and he didn't offer.

Since then, things have been quiet, which I suppose is good in terms of my patient's condition. It just isn't doing much for the rest of the people in the house. Especially 'Steve'.

I want to keep calling him 'Captain' and, or 'Rogers' out of respect. He hasn't been part of my life long enough to qualify as more than an acquaintance, and he has been a national hero longer then I've been alive. But then he fought along side my alter ego to save the world, so I suppose we've cleared the first name hurtle. Then there is also the fact I can relate to a man who can't be with the one he loves.

I don't know if he sees it, or even if she did, because I've had plenty of time to read her files. A person with amnesia who can't touch other people would probably have a very hard time recognizing those feelings for what they really were. Then from everything I've read about Ca... Steve, he was never very good at dealing with the ladies.

When the host of the Hulk though has to order you out for a few hours to eat and sleep _every night_ , and you still look like you want to argue, I don't what else to call that but love. I can respect that.

If it was Betty on that hospital bed I'd be there. I was, even though I was the one to put her in the hospital. It took the entire U.S army to make me leave her side, and only after I knew she would get better.

Betty didn't try to shoot me because a madman got in her head and twisted things around though. We looked for that right away, the energy signature from the staff that he used to take control of Dr. Selvig and Agent Barton. The fact that we didn't find it didn't mean she was any less under his control, it just meant he turned her against her friends the old fashioned way. That I can't relate to as well. I don't think I can relate to it at all honestly. If Betty aimed a weapon at me I have no idea what I would do, either of me.

"Excuse me gentlemen." The voice that splits the silence is one we have all come to know rather well. I never imagined I would live inside a house that was smarter then me, but I must say, I've become very fond of J.A.R.V.I.S now that the uncomfortable edge has worn off. "But Captain Rogers asked to be informed if there were any visitors. Miss. Potts vehicle has just passed the perimeter sensors, and she should be at the house in twenty five minutes."

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1200 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"Thank you J.A.R.V.I.S." When I put in that request it was with the expectation that those 'visitors' would be S.H.I.E.L.D or World Council representatives. The council was particularly upset about the fact I took Nora, because officially that's where we let the responsibility land.

Sure, we have made use of STARK technology, the medical experience of Dr. Banner, and the connections of Agent Romanoff and Barton, but every decision has come from me. I decided to use STARK industry resources, personnel, and facilities for her medical treatment instead of S.H.I.E.L.D's. I decided to deny them access to the property, and decided to refuse any discussion on the matter of Nora, until she can participate. I even made the decision to take away most of their power over her.

They've been able to control Nora so much up to this point, because they were the only ones who knew about her. I've changed that every time I mentioned her name in that interview. I only did the one so far, but at the funeral some reporters did ask for some words from Captain America, and I saw an opportunity. Most of the country knows that Captain America has returned from the history books, and is currently taking some personal leave to help his 'girlfriend' recover from her 'brainwashing'.

Those two details were filled in by the media once they found out that my friend was a woman, and had been held captive by Loki. They were details I didn't dispute despite the fact I don't like forcing those titles and lies on Nora. They will help keep her safe by keeping her in the spotlight. Natasha even talked about spreading similar rumors herself if the media didn't do it for her.

"Have you told Natasha?" The fact that it is Miss. Potts and not a S.H.I.E.L.D agent makes me suspect she might be here for her. Natasha has taken over handling the security and personnel, since Dr. Banner is busy with Nora's medical treatment, and I am busy just being nearby. "Of course sir. Is there anything else?"

"No, thank you. That will be all for now."

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1201 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

BRUCE

* * *

After he dismisses J.A.R.V.I.S.. I take the opportunity to get him out of the room for a little while. "You should go and meet her too." I can already see the argument forming that he doesn't need to, he isn't that hungry or tired yet, and Natasha can handle whatever brought Pepper here. I interrupt it before he even finishes drawing the breath for it. "It will give the nurses a chance to bathe her."

It probably counts as a cheap tactic, but it doesn't make it any less a real one, or one I've used before. Despite the fact she is not human, she still has the ability to sweat just like we do. That means that until she regains consciousness and can do it herself, we're responsible for maintaining her basic hygiene. It's a convenient excuse for me to drive Steve to rest and eat. He may be desperately worried about her, but even that isn't strong enough to make him ignore her right to modesty.

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1228 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

_Aw, he shaved._ After J.A.R.V.I.S. told me to expect Pepper, and answered my question on whether or not Steve would be joining me to greet her, it didn't take the Captain more than 15 minutes to arrive in the living room. I didn't miss that his came without the addition of his stubble.

I honestly hadn't decided if I liked the idea of him with a beard, not that the 5 o'clock shadow he was sporting could even be called a beard truthfully, I just found it different. There wasn't a single picture in history of him with facial hair, and I know some people even suspected he might be one of those men who just couldn't grow a beard.

It is nice to see though that he still cares about his appearance despite living in what is a text book environment for depression to grow. I may be here against S.H.I.E.L.D's 'official' wishes, but I'm still a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, and taking care of Captain America is all of our assignments, even if it isn't.

While he took the time to make himself presentable again, Pepper seems to have just maintained the habit. Even though we are surrounded by more the 6 miles of mountain wilderness on any given side, she exits that Audi in high heels, wearing a white dress that terminates into black stripes. Her professionalism suggestions a degree of nervous apprehension.

I suspected I might see as much when J.A.R.V.I.S.. announced her. The fact that she choose to make a personal appearance suggested guilt too, just given how unnecessary it is. Anything her presence might accomplish could be achieved just as easily with a phone call.

I know she thought Nora was a whore once. It's never officially been said or brought up because they never actually met until she saw Nora bleeding from bullet wounds. But once Nora met Tony by accident, and it end up with her putting part of her arm through a computer screen S.H.I.E.L.D naturally took care of the situation and Nora's medical needs. That didn't stop Tony from talking about the incident though, or trying to send Nora apology presents. Pepper's assumption wasn't unreasonable, because at that time the only women Stark showed similar interest in were ones he had sex with.

Now that she is more acquainted with Nora's story she feels bad. That's why she offered us this cabin in the first place, and why I won't say anything. The fact that she regrets that assumption is enough, I don't need to punish her further by revealing what's motivating her generosity to Steve.

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1230 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

BRUCE

* * *

Checking the charts one more time I finally settle on a decision. This is a new life form I'm trying to heal so a lot of it is just educated guesswork. That doesn't change the fact though, that to the best of my knowledge and interpretation, the information on these charts all tell me the same thing. This is about as healthy as she is going to get.

Waking her up, until now has been risky because she was shot several times, on top of a number of other injuries we only discovered during surgery. Those injuries were intriguing due to the fact that despite having had to occur in the last four days, were already much further along in the healing process then they should be. Her leg was fractured in several spots, but under the splint it was already sealing the cracks.

Since then we've confirmed the old medical reports about her having an accelerated ability to heal, but her body still needed the time to do that. For the last day and a half that acceleration seems to have stopped.

Given her last act while conscious though, we are understandably hesitant, but we can't keep her sedated forever. There is also the possibility that waking her up will grant me a better understanding of how to treat her. Who better to know the medical needs of their race then someone of that race. I can't imagine she doesn't know about her own biology.

"After your done, have the anesthesiologist come in." We'll take her off the sedatives and see if she wakes up on her own. If not we may have to try something else to revive her. "Oh, and wash her hair this time too."

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1231 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"So you want me to make her life another lie?" After we exchanged pleasantries and Miss. Potts greeted 'Natalie' before recognizing her mistake, she said she had something important to discuss with me.

We all recognize that this was going to be a long conversation, whatever the topic, so we moved from the entranceway to the living room. I quickly became very glad that I was sitting on the white coaches, because I think I'd be pacing menacingly or having trouble standing otherwise.

"No, of course not." She offers, accompanying the words with a shake of her head before she pulls out her tablet to offer me. "But the media has been asking quite a bit about your 'girlfriend'."

CNN. NBC. MSNBC. FOX NEWS. Maxim Magazine. The Tonight Show. Jimmy Kimmel. The Daily Show. People Magazine. Time Magazine. Cosmo Magazine. Each of these had articles about Nora, though I only took the time to read the titles. 'Who is she?' 'Where is she?' 'How did she seduce the world's greatest hero?' 'How you can seduce the world's greatest hero too' Reading that much was enough.

"I also know that some of the more aggressive news groups have hired private investigators." That catches my attention, but the questioning expression is aimed at Natasha.

"S.H.I.E.L.D's been misdirecting them." She admits, but I can see the annoyance in that statement too, which Miss. Potts is quick to clear up.

"Yes, they've been leading the P.I's around by their noses for now, but they're not covering the scent. Miss Elaine doesn't really have an identity. She doesn't even have a social security number."

"How is that possible?" I ask both of them. "She rented an apartment, she had a credit card. I've seen her I.D?!"

Natasha is the one who answers. "S.H.I.E.L.D rented her apartment, and funded the account. The I.D only worked because it flagged our systems. We didn't give her an identity because it's hard to leave the country without training if you can't prove you exist."

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1232 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

I can practically hear the repetition of 'I'm not going to get mad' through his expression as he closes his eyes and offers me a set of tight lips that only resemble a smile. "and I'm guessing S.H.I.E.L.D will eventually stop keeping that secret if we don't start cooperating."

"Yes, that's one of the plans." __But it's not the only plan._ _ "I've been talking to councilman Pierce."

I can seem familiarity spark across Steve's eyes at the name. "He wants her to stay right where she is, with us." Before the familiarity is eclipsed by suspicion. "He and Fury are the minority right now, but they have another Councilman who is on the fence."

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1232 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

The last name, Pierce sounds familiar enough that I know I heard it recently, but beyond that I can't place it. I'm less confused about the title Councilman though. My opinion on them is very clear, because their opinion on her seems to be equally as clear. It doesn't matter what the World Council thinks or decides when it comes to Nora, it's always because of an agenda, and I'm sure it now too. "What's he want?"

"Well, ultimately he wants to know what happened to his son." That sentence solves the mystery for me. That's right, there was an agent Pierce on the casualty list. The N.Y.P.D found his body in the castle within Central Park after they saw Nora exit it. Then when S.H.E.I.L.D sent agents back there they said the body was missing part of its head. "and he doesn't want any outside agendas to manipulate her answers."

Well that situation qualifies as both interesting and suspicious, it isn't pertinent. As much as I can sympathize with a man looking for answers about the death of his son, the son is dead. The condition of his life has stagnated, and will never improve. Nora is still alive, and her situation can and must change, as Miss. Potts voice reminds us. "Either way though, we need to make Miss Elaine a real person on paper, for her own sake. She'll never be able to have a decent life on earth if we don't."

I agree with that completely. Nora has nowhere else to go, but that doesn't mean I don't have concerns. "But what if she doesn't like it?" They are asking me to help fabricate a life here after all.

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1233 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

His concern is completely valid. I've created persona's for myself I wasn't entirely happy with. We are asking him to create one for someone else who might be a very different person then he remembers when she wakes up. "We're just making her past Steve. After the park she's in the spotlight now, even without being connected to us. As long as we keep it simple she can make her life into anything she wants. But if we don't make up something, sooner or later someone is going to find out she doesn't exist."

"Natasha's right." Pepper interjects with a voice full of empathy "I know this sounds bad, but she isn't conscious so we can't ask her and we can't wait. Just think of this as securing her future, not building a lie."

"Tony has already agreed to create a checking and saving account for her, and will even give her a job and house if she wants it." She adds as well, leaving out the part where Stark was almost giddy at the idea of getting in S.H.I.E.L.D's way on this.

"This is illegal." I don't know if that was a him voicing an objection, or seeking a clarification, and I don't care because my stance is perfectly clear.

"Absolutely. But Nora isn't human Steve. There are no laws, amendments, or rights protecting her. If the world finds out she isn't human, there is nothing to stop them from legally seizing her and studying her." There are already civil rights groups discussing the matter of Thor, and the basic rights that should be afforded to humanoids of extraterrestrial origins that may already be on the planet, or may visit with peaceful intentions, but those are still just words. "Truthfully she has less rights than livestock right now."

That seems to convince him because I can see the gears shift from should to can as he turns to Pepper "And you have the resources to pull this off?"

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1234 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

PEPPER

* * *

"Stark industries already has what's been called the best legal team on the planet" I reassure him. Given Tony's behavior we already had those lawyers on payroll even before he became Iron Man, and since then we have only added more.

"And you have me." He looks even more assured when 'Natasha' __I need to get used to calling her that,_ _ confirms that she'll be helping him. "I can build a back story so concrete it will even fool an A.I."

"It's true, Miss Romanoff's skills put me quite to shame." That doesn't hurt either, and even seems to surprise both of them a little. Most 'men' wouldn't admit a failure like that, but when Tony hired 'Natalie' behind my back I did have J.A.R.V.I.S. run an extensive background check on her. I was disappointed when I found nothing worth firing her over.

"Thank you J.A.R.V.I.S." she offers the air with a smile, taking pride in the confirmation of her skills.

"You're most welcome Miss Romanoff, and Captain if I may add, Miss Romanoff achieved that success without my assistance." Though that pride transforms to curiosity once again, and is reflected on all our faces.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., are you volunteering to break the law?" While it certainly wouldn't be the first time the A.I. did something illegal, it would be the first time it wasn't on the directions of Tony as far as I know. Usually J.A.R.V.I.S. attempts to dissuade such actions first.

"Of course Miss. Potts, I am unable to determine any other humane courses of action. Do you have any objections?"

That might be the sweetest, most technical way I have ever heard anything admit to having a conscious. "For once, no."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES FOR THE READERS:
> 
> Despite the fact the disclaimer at the top mentions I post Photobucket albums with the chapters, I have been using the Hotspot feature on my phone to post these chapters. When our internet is fixed I will post them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.  
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name along with a place to post suggestions.  
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

 CHAPTER THREE

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1317 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

After we finished explaining the finer points of what we could and couldn't do while creating a fake identity, as well as what we should and must do, Pepper left Steve and I alone. We were about to make a life for a woman that we hoped she would approve of, that job was best left to people who knew the woman in question. There were also other people that Pepper came to see anyway.

The process was a combination of spoken conversation between Steve, J.A.R.V.I.S, and I as we debated on things like where she should live. As well as digital communication as we researched things online, such as schools, and doctors, and homes. J.A.R.V.I.S was particularly helpful in that aspect because before we approved a location that she 'lived' at, we had him check for someone of similar age and appearance.

J.A.R.V.I.S was also instrumental in forging old records. Birth certificates, medical records, school enrollment records, report cards. He photoshopped her image into various school photos and videos, after de-aging them appropriately. He set up fake emails, and subscriptions, some to sites and magazine that didn't even exist anymore. He created fake bank records, and receipts from fake purchases. He created patterns, having her shop at certain stores, eat at certain restaurants, use certain gas stations, and buy certain brands.

He even forged other records for me, one of which just caught Steve's attention. "What's this about shoplifting? I didn't write that."

"No, you didn't, I added that." I confirm as I stop before I swipe another detail over for J.A.R.V.I.S to insert into her history. "You're making a good list for her, don't worry."

That's not just an empty compliment either. Despite Steve never building a fake identity before he has been making additions I've found myself impressed by. He made her family part of a multigenerational real estate business, choosing vacation rentals over houses. That was smart because it made her fake family wealthy, and also behind the scenes to a degree.

He also added things regarding her education. In high school he adjusted her class schedule to include four years of French and two years of Spanish. Making her multilingual opened up options for her, but it became clear that was intentional when he added languages to her college courses. He had Jarvis give her a masters in Arabic and Japanese. He also included more personal studies, giving her a Masters in the Culinary Arts and an Associates degree in Photography, two hobbies he knew she liked. He was opening up multiple career options for her when she got better.

He added personal details too, the kind that help refine a person. Some of them were really cute, like the note about having to take care of the first grade goldfish to prove she was responsible enough for a puppy. He even chose a breed and selected a picture for Jarvis to photoshop in. A beagle and australian shepherd mix that he named Chimney. It makes me wonder if he thought about something like this before.

Another detail he put in was her being particularly close to her grandparents, which made it very easy for him to relate to her. A young person who was accustomed receiving and returning the habits of an older generation. The media will take that as the similarities that let them to start bonding.

He also included the fact that she owned a Mutt that died and a Siamese that went missing during the invasion. We still haven't found Jareth, but once the media gets a hold of the story that Captain America's favorite cat is missing, the entire country is going to be looking for him. That's brilliant.

He even took my advice about the hair salons. I told him rather bluntly, and half joking that a woman wasn't a real woman if she didn't have a hair salon in every town she lived in.

He's built a solid framework for a life. "But you're making her too squeaky clean."

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1319 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"Why can't she be squeaky clean?" I ask in all seriousness and somewhat offended. Half of that offense is due to my meager identity building skills coming into question. The other half is for Nora's sake, because the woman I knew, knew, is as 'squeaky clean' as I made her out to be.

"You're not even squeaky clean Steve." She offers back with a raised eyebrow and the hint of a grin. "Before you were Captain America, you were picking fights with strangers in alleys."

"They were for good reasons." Her grin turns into more of a smirk as she watches me clear my throat and obviously backpedal. I'm still not used to everyone knowing my complete history like that. Before I fell asleep that was a detail the media tended to overlook and ignore out right sometimes because it didn't fit with the image they were trying to create. "but I see your point, still, shoplifting, and breaking into places?"

The Nora I know and the one I can't help but imagine Natasha knows as well, she would never do any of those things. She would most likely even feel bad for considering them."She was a teenager, who just lost her mom to cancer."

That's another thing. I added the part about her being close to her fictional grandparents, because her grandparents would be close to my generation. They would have shared things about life then with her, things I could relate to. That didn't mean I meant it to turn into she was close to her grandparents because her parents were dead. "Yeah, why'd you add that too?"

"Because it's easier to make up a person, if there's actually a living person to go with it."  _...So because Nora has no parents, here at least, they need to be dead? Okay, makes sense._

Working out the answer to that question I let my mind roll right onto the next one. "Why did she date a gay boy in high school?"

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1320 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

It is really hard not to snort at that question, and impossible to prevent the quick bout of chuckles. "Fake dating, it's something young gay boys do with girls that they befriend, it keeps them from getting beat up and harassed." Things I never thought I would do, school Captain America on the concept of 'beards'.

"Oh, so it's lavender marriage, without the marriage." Things I also didn't expect, Captain America to turn around and school me with what is obviously old fashioned slang.

"Anyways it's to show she isn't prejudice. It's a new age, homophobia went out of style with acid washed jeans. It's to help your image too. It will help cement the idea that Captain America is a supporter of all races, religions, and sexualitys. There a problem with that?"

"No, not from me." He shakes his head confirming what I always suspected. Steve Rogers went to war to protect people's rights to control their own lives. Choosing who you love physically and emotionally is part of that, so even if he didn't necessarily agree with it he would still support it. "I'm just worried the media's going to twist that into something foul."

This time taking the Ipad in both hands I press the side of it to my tightly drawn lips, and drum my fingers over it once before it migrates to my lap."Steve they're going to twist all of this anyways."

The "What?" and "why?" are mirrored by his eyes even as they leave his tongue.

"Because she's the woman who took the most eligible bachelor off the market, before the market even had a chance to put a price tag on you." It's a hard truth, but it's better if it's delivered now before the media really shows their teeth."That's what comes with dating Captain America. Unless you mark yourself as a liar and say she isn't your girlfriend, this is how it's going to be."

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1321 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"No." Truthfully I never said she was in the first place, I only said she was someone very important. "If this is what we have to do to protect Nora, I'll let the media keep filling in the blanks."

"Good, no there's just one more thing. You didn't put a place in New York down? Didn't you see the house I suggested?" She asks as she picks up the Ipad again.

 _Oh I saw it. It was a really nice place, up until one detail._ "Yeah I did, and no offense Natasha, but are you sure you knew Nora?"

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1321 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

_What does that mean?_ "That place has two hand carved fireplace mantles with cast iron work" I was on assignment when Nora was granted her apartment and her place in Wyoming so I don't really know what her tastes were, but I did have access to her purchase history with the S.H.I.E.L.D credit card, so I had a strong idea what she liked and I used it to pick a place for her. "Ceramic and hardwood floors, a private terrace off her bedroom with couches and a potted garden. More couches throughout covered in handmade blankets and throw pillows. Picture collages decorating the walls. Several chandeliers and oriental rugs. Its filled with flowers and books. Has air conditioning, radiators and..."

"A kitchen that's smaller than the bathroom" He interrupts with an amused look.  _Oh, that._

I saw the picture of the kitchen. The sink was a normal sized sink, but it still took up two thirds of the visible counter space. However the picture only showed one side so I figured there was more counter space I didn't see. There was only twenty four pictures of the whole place after all. "The bathroom is really cute though."

After that sentence my grin increases, while his drops completely and his voice shifts to monotone." Just because the union jack is red and blue doesn't mean I'd want it on my girlfriend's toilet.

"She'd end up with an aneurysm just being in that kitchen too long." he continues, and I can feel my skeptical curiosity grow.

That's a fairly strong opinion about someone who is just a friend. "You sure she's not really your girlfriend?"

"Get serious Natasha." That was half spoken in honest inquiry, and half to bug him, but when all it seems to do is bug him I let the subject drop.

"So do you have one in mind?" I let the conversation steer itself naturally back to the rather large detail we need to decide on. It would be very hard for her to meet a guy living in Brooklyn if she wasn't living in NYC too.

Steve doesn't answer, at least out loud. His reply is the sight of his fingers dancing across his screen before he turns the tablet to me. "...Yeah, some things are different, it's a bit more subdued on the girlish stuff, but that works because you'd be there too. I like the old barber shop chair in the kitchen, that's totally her."

"Calling all security personnel in the main house, an incident is occurring in the basement."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.  
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name along with a place to post suggestions.  
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

CHAPTER FOUR

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1322 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

There were two routes to the basement. There was a large service elevator that was big enough for a hospital bed to fit in. Then there was the private staircase that required a key card and pass code. I took that route because it would be quicker than the elevator, even if it meant they would have to replace that lock. Something was happening in the basement, and Nora was down there! I couldn’t wait for a box on a cable!

The second J.A.R.V.I.S called for security, I knew I would be walking in on a situation in progress. Still with that warning to prepare me, the state I see Rachel in is a bit hard to process.

She is one of Nora's nurses, and is very nice. I can see that she is one of my fans every time we talk, which is quite a bit given how often I want updates on Nora’s condition. Even with that though, she has always been very polite, courteous, and professional. She understands how inappropriate it would be to ask for an autograph while I’m busy worrying whether my friend will live or die.

Now her professionalism has given way to frantic intensity is she sits on the ground between Miss Potts and Doctor Banner, her braid half unraveled due the the absence of her hair tie, and the sleeve on her blue scrubs clinging to her shirt by little more then threads. They have her hands in their own to to keep her from hurting herself, and are trying to calm her down.

Her half whimpered words in between her struggles are what direct my eyes to the problem. “MY SKIN! MY SKIN! HELP ME!I CAN FEEL IT! PLEASE! PLEASE! ITS GOTTA STOP! I GOTTA GET IT OFF! LET GO! LET GO!” Even is she is panicking I can see blisters climbing up her arm at a crawl toward her neck, the only comfort I take is that I can see that their ascent has stopped.

That’s enough to make my feet move again. It's not that I don’t care about what happened to Rachel, but she has Bruce and Miss Potts taking care of her, whatever I could do to help her, they can probably do better since one of them is a doctor.

She has people taking care of her. But Nora doesn’t, and that needs to be fixed. I barely hear Dr Banner shout at me to stop, and I also don’t really listen to the fact that both women shout the same words. If I did, I might have though to take that is the warning that it was. Instead is I ripped open the second set of swinging doors, caution finally found its way past the stubbornness of my walls, as Nora aimed a broken beam at my eye with a scream!

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1323 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

I am swimming in cotton balls, again. The absurdity of that makes me laugh in my mind, right before it makes me snarl. I dreamt of this sensation before, then I woke up to find I was a prisoner of my unwelcome past. The only difference is that this time I can feel lightning crackling in the fluff.

I remember seeing green above me, ringing the edges of my vision is I fell. I knew in the distant part of my mind that the blurring color was the sight of leaves, distorted by my tears. That was okay though, because I also saw blue in that ring. The sky. A little boys eyes. A good man in the darkest of places, the color of my family crest. Blue, a color that always seem to bring love and definition to my life. A color I was glad to see one last time is I died.

Blue, to blackness, to blinding white, and the sound of someone humming.

 _I was alive. I was alive? I was alive! Why was I alive! Who did this to me!_ Loki was gone, there was nothing left for me here but suffering and the slow crawl off decay. I made a I choice, the only choice I could think of that would finally give me some piece, and someone stole that right from me!

They would pay for that, everyone of these fools. I did not know where I was, or who I was with. I did not care. It could be S.H.I.E.L.D, it could be the cops that shot me! It could be some other group entirely. It could even be the allies Loki was so afraid to let know of me. He implied that they would most likely torture or kill me to make sure Loki succeeded, and the fact that Loki was taken is a prisoner back to Asgard means he failed. If it was them and they killed me, at least I would be free.

The panicked face of a human woman dashed the possibility of the last. I was not a prisoner of the Chitauri, just a prisoner of fools. They used leather straps to restrain me. _Leather, have they learned nothing of me?!_

The straps dried and crumbled for me is my magick eroded the leather, but it was not until I felt her fingers touch my hair that I let myself move. She had separated a section of it and I could feel the soft bristles trace across myself is she brushed my hair for me. She was grooming me is I slept. That thought filled me with rage and fear. The last time someone did such a thing I woke up in a white dress, and shared a meal with them. Then they dyed the dress red with my own blood, and a few bullet holes!

She tripped over her own ankles is my arms suddenly stretched to grab her by the throat, one of the straps snapping is most of it remained on the hospital bed, well the other became more of bracelet is I caught her wrist.

That was when the panic really settled into her eyes, driving out the surprise. She could feel my magick itching its way deeper into her skin.

The voice calling for security drew both of our attention, but while it only served to distract me, she seems to have found it a source of hope and bravery.

Feeling the scrape of bristles on my skin is she hit me was enough to make me loosen my grip. Her strike wasn’t that hard, but the bristles of the hairbrush were scratching a path for my eyes, and to avoid that I was forced to let her other wrist go.

She took that opportunity to run for the door, hoping to escape before I made it all the way off the bed, and she very nearly succeeded before I wrapped my fist in her braid.

This time it was not just a voice that reacted, but the house itself. Before I could yank her back into the room, a wall of glass rocketed up from the floor. It was either let her go or let the impact break my arm.

Being free did nothing to lessen the breathless fear in her eyes, even though for the moment all I could do was stand on the other side of the barrier and glare at her with impenitent rage. When she realized that she could still feel my magick spreading through her skin, her fear of me transformed from wide eyed stillness, to running and screaming for help is she started tearing at her own clothes.

I did not hate the woman particularly, and my attack was not out of maliciousness. She was just my best opportunity to get the information I needed, and now I would most likely loose that in the time it took me to break this glass. Glass that I quickly confirm my suspicions of when it does not break with the first blow.

I may be weak by Asgardian standards but I am still an Asgardian. I should have no problem breaking Midgardian glass, except when it is bullet proof. I will have to find something to break it with, and is my eyes scan the room it does not take me long for them to settle on the thick wood trim of the bathroom door. That sight makes me smile softly. _Truly, these people are fools._

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1326 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

Getting out of the elevator with the two security guards that were already in the main house, I’m greeted by the sight of more security guards spilling out of the service tunnel that connects to the guest apartments, and semi hysterical nurse being comforted by Banner and Pepper.

Bruce only spares me enough attention to tell me to “get Steve”, and truthfully he doesn’t need to say any more.

Its no surprise that Rogers in there to blindly protect Nora, forgetting to notice, or choosing to overlook completely, that three of the four people down here were the people he passed to get to her. Whatever happened, Nora’s the only one unaccounted for, and therefore most likely the cause. _Wonderful._

Taking the lead, and seeing her to try to stab him in the face through security glass pretty much confirms her responsibility. it also makes me discard all but one mental card. I had a few idea's about what the future here would be like once she woke up. Now I only have one.

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1326 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

Seeing something about to impale me in the eye made my arms rise up defensively before my ears filled in the missing information. I heard the sound of an impact but felt no pain, and when my arms dropped down cautiously I saw Nora breathing hard as she recoiled slightly off balance from what was clearly a barrier, and the sensation of shock.

I yanked open the swinging doors so quickly I didn’t have time to register the safety glass in front of me, and she probably didn’t have enough time to recognize me, let alone stop her swing. Now though, there’s enough time for her thoughts to affect her reactions.

I can hear Natasha’s footsteps and a few others behind me, but even if I couldn’t the sight of Nora's confused eyes drawing tighter is they flitted past me would have told me of there arrival.

The security guards were an unwelcome necessity. This property is somewhere along the lines of 60 acres. That’s far too much for us to patrol and still be able to take care of Nora’s need, and while J.A.R.V.I.S is amazing, he is 'physically' confined to the building he's built in.

There also under Natasha's command, which is why I spare a glance over my shoulder and turn her name int a question. she and Clint were the ones who choose them. They said something along the lines of these were people they worked with before outside of S.H.I.E.L.D, and that’s is much is I wanted to know. She answers my question with a nod, and well she doesn’t make them leave, she does have them stand down. _If this doesn’t have to be a fight, we don’t want it to._

“Nora” her eyes snap back to mine, shifting more into a scowl then a confused frown at the sound of my voice, but the beam in her hand doesn’t lift from its relaxed position, which I take is a good sign.

I remember Nora telling me about when she woke up from her coma. She said she broke a man's arm back then, because she didn’t know who she was, where was, or who the people were that were trying to restrain her. I'm fairly certain she knows who she is this time, but she probably didn’t know where she was or who the nurse was when she attacked her.

It doesn’t help that it also looked like the nurse attacked her back. I can see a pink section of skin on her face, it start at her cheek and angles up to the top of her eyebrow. Then there’s also evidence that the nurse was touching her. Nora's hair is damp, but well most of it is slightly tousled from being towel dried, one section is almost pin straight. Nora is terrified of being touched, and she woke up well the nurse was brushing her hair.

“It's okay, you're safe.” while I’m speaking I hold my hands out to the side, letting her get a good look at my open, empty palms is a gesture of good faith. “I'm sorry if the nurse scared you.” I offer in apology, making a mental not to apologize to Rachel on Nora’s behalf, and explain Nora’s condition after this. “We weren’t expecting you to wake up so quickly though.”

Her eyes look past me again, but given the way they shift slowly from one side to the next, and her features darken in what looks like angry preparation, I doubt her focus is Natasha. Its got to be the security guards that is putting her on edge. Reasonable given she still doesn’t know where we are and there are armed men at the door.

“We're at one of Stark's properties.” She looks a bit incredulous at that statement, which I can't really blame her for now that I think about it. She's not Stark's biggest fan. “They're just the security, they're not S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“We won't let S.H.I.E.L.D take you back.” I end that reassurance with a gentle smile “I'll keep you safe here.” But that expression is burned from my face by the intensity of hers.

“Biarkan saya selamat?” The lack of English made me turn my gaze to Natasha in the hopes she understood. That turned out to be a failed hope when she just shook her head, and a mistake when the sound of Nora striking the glass made me snap my head back.

This time her words were more of a shout. The language barrier made it hard to be sure if her anger rising was because I dared to ignore her, or if it was just whatever upset her in the first place growing stronger. “BIARKAN SAYA DI SINI!”

“J.A.R.V.I.S?” I vaguely hear Natasha's voice behind me, asking the A.I to translate, only for him to reply he can't find a language match.

“ANDA FIKIR ANDA MEMPUNYAI HAK?” The tone of that sounded an awful lot like a question, but without knowing what she is saying, all I can do is plead with her to stop, and watch her slam the end of that beam into the glass over and over.

“ANDA MATIKANLAH KAMI! ANDA BOLEHLAH AKU MATI!” It's like the park all over again. I said the wrong thing, I made the wrong call. The only comfort I have is that Nora is safely on the other side of bullet proof glass.

“ANDA BIARKAN DIA MATI!” That comfort leaves me though when she pulls back for another strike, and leaves a tiny white mark in the beams wake. She scratched bullet glass with a piece of wood!

“ANDA BEDEBAH! ANDA MENDAPAT DIA DIBUNUH! ANDA RASA ANDA BOLEH DATANG DAN BERMAIN WIRA SELEPAS ANDA MENINGGALKAN DAKU, SELEPAS ANDA MEMBIARKAN DIA MATI?” That tiny scratch turns into a tiny crack, and the sound of an equally small gasp makes me realize I’m not the only one who sees it.

It pissed Nora off a moment ago, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Turning my back on her I turn my full attention on Natasha, commander of at least four men with guns. “NO. nobody touches her.” I can see that same concern in her eyes, but I can also see the argument. “Steve, she is breaking bullet proof glass.” Then doesn’t matter because the argument is taken right out of both of our hands.

“Initiating Pepper protocol.” I almost question J.A.R.V.I.S about  that, but watching Nora’s next act explains it rather well. She hits the glass again, and this time it widens the tiny crack far enough that the beam actually hangs there for a fraction of a second before its own weight and gravity pull it free.

The reason gravity pulled it free and not Nora’s hand is the fact that Nora is currently clutching her hand protectively after what was very distinctly a crack of electricity. They put my friend behind a bullet proof electric fence! “J.A.R.V.I.S! Stand down!”

The A.I doesn’t miss the fury in my tone, given that he starts his reply with an apology “I’m sorry Captain, but in the face of a threat, protocol requires me to disregard all command until Miss Potts is safely off the property.” and offers me no comfort.

Neither does the sight of Nora’s angry expression changing to fear is she looks up at the ceiling nearest the glass, and backs away. I can barely see it, but I know what that distortion in the air means. That’s gas, Tony built a gas chamber, with electric bullet proof walls, and he let me put my best friend in there! “Natasha! Get Pepper!”

“Her authorization is insufficient Captain.” Natasha’s steps falter for a second, and only a second before her eyes meet mine. The words don’t need to be said. We both know my command just changed from get Pepper, to get Pepper out of here. Tony programmed the house to protect his girlfriend at all costs, which I can begrudgingly respect. That doesn’t mean I’m just stand by idly and wait for her to reach a safe distance.

The voltage hurts my hand to is I start punching the glass security door, and completely ignore the voices advising me against my course of action. Nora already weakened the glass on her side. Maybe if I hit it hard enough from mine I can finish the process. “Shoot me, or take Banner and evacuate the building.” There’s a couple seconds of silence from the guards behind me before I hear more footsteps. While everyone here is being paid a small fortune by Tony, no one is being paid enough to shoot Captain America in the back.

I can see her. She's kneeling on the ground by the sink in the room. She pulled one of the blankets of the bed and soaked it, hoping the water would filter out the gas. I can't see her much more then her eyes but there just looking at me, unblinking is she breaths through a wet sheet and cradles her injured hand to her chest.

Then with a faltering step that makes her grab the sink for some stability, she gets up. She 'walks' closer to me, to the glass, to the vents bumping gas into the room. “Nora, no, move away!” I don’t know what the gas is, I’m hoping and assuming its not poisonous, but I don’t know, and I don’t want her to take that chance. Then watching what her hand does to the wall makes me stop protesting.

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 12TH 2012

1331 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

After getting Pepper in her car is quick is I could. After accepting her word that she had know idea about the protocol, and her promise to deal with Tony, I ran back into the building only to find an empty hall.

Banner and the nurse weren’t where I left them, but my security team quickly cleared up the details of their locations for me. The nurse was back in the guest house, and was under house arrest until we figured out how to handle that situation, but otherwise she was fine.

Is for Doctor Banner and Steve. They were with Nora, who was far far away from the surgery suite in the basement. Apparently Steve broke the wall and carried her unconscious body upstairs. Objections were made by the guards, but no one was going to enforce them. Especially since Dr Banner looked displeased with them too.

I'm not exactly pleased with them either. I knew Tony had security measures in place, but I didn’t know they extended past the electrified security doors in the floor. Nora was a victim of 'Nazi' experimentation, and Steve was a WWII veteran who fought during the holocaust and liberated concentration camp. How Tony ever thought gas was a good idea is beyond me.

Though, seeing what is clearly Nora’s work makes me understand his concern a bit. It wasn’t just Steve's strength that broke that glass, it was the pressure she put on it. It looks the hull of a ship was growing sideways out of the wall, forcing itself into the track of the glass. I can see the imprint of her hand at the bottom of it, where her fingers literally sunk into the wood. It's almost beautiful if not for the tragic sight of her blood drying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES FOR THE READERS:
> 
> In case anyone is wondering what Nora is saying, I provided translations below. The language she is speaking is Malay, which I choose because it's considered a very pretty language when spoken, and Google translate spells it with English letters. lol. In the story, it's Nora's native language (Vanir). 
> 
> Nora has the allspeak ability, but this is my interpretation of it.
> 
> ALLSPEAK: is the accelerated ability to learn a language. It is possible due to nanites that have been integrated into the genetic code and pass down naturally. it allows Asgardians to quickly learn a language (both spoken and written) with minimal exposure. Once they learn a language the ability translates it in real time, allowing them to actually hear the speaker in their own language. They can also choose which language they are speaking for the benefit of those without the ability, but it needs to be a conscious effort. Because it is genetic though, it doe not apply to people without the nanites.
> 
> In this case, Nora is so angry she doesn't realize she's not speaking English, and Steve has no idea what Nora is saying because he doesn't have the allspeak ability.
> 
> TRANSLATIONS:
> 
> "Biarkan saya selamat?"  
> "Keep me safe?"
> 
> "BIARKAN SAYA DI SINI?"  
> "KEEP ME HERE? "
> 
> "ANDA FIKIR ANDA MEMPUNYAI HAK?"  
> "YOU THINK YOU HAVE THE RIGHT?"
> 
> "ANDA MATIKANLAH KAMI! ANDA BOLEHLAH AKU MATI!"  
> "YOU LET US DIE! YOU LET ME DIE! "
> 
> "ANDA BIARKAN DIA MATI!"  
> "YOU LET HIM DIE!"
> 
> "ANDA BEDEBAH! ANDA MENDAPAT DIA DIBUNUH! ANDA RASA ANDA BOLEH DATANG DAN BERMAIN WIRA SELEPAS ANDA MENINGGALKAN DAKU, SELEPAS ANDA MEMBIARKAN DIA MATI?"  
> "YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU GOT HIM KILLED! YOU THINK YOU CAN COME AND PLAY THE HERO AFTER YOU LEFT ME TO DIE, AFTER YOU LET HIM DIE?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name along with a place to post suggestions.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

 CHAPTER FIVE

* * *

 SUNDAY, MAY 13TH 2012

1147 HOURS 

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212 

* * *

 STEVE

* * *

Natasha is watching Nora at the moment, something I'm only allowing because of necessity. Banner is sitting at the kitchen island eating a sandwich, and I'm standing next to the kitchen table, resisting the urge to punch a hologram of Tony's face. "I don't see what the problem is?"

Ever since the fiasco yesterday, I've been trying to contain the fury boiling inside, and not aim that hate at anyone who didn't deserve it, but I really wish the body talking to me so casually was actually here right now. My hands are itching for the feeling of something solid under my knuckles.

I got her out of there, but I had to watch her, inches from my face, as she gasped for breath with tears rolling out of her terrified eyes. I had to watch her lose the strength to keep her eyes open, and fall frighteningly still on the other side of that glass before it finally broke and I had the reassurance of feeling her shaky breaths as I lifted her into my arms, and he stands there saying he doesn't understand what the problem is?! "You put my friend in a gas chamber!"

"No." With the safety of a continent between us he actually has the audacity to roll his eyes. "I put a crazy alien who was brainwashed by another crazy alien in a gas chamber. I don't know why you and Pepper are acting like I poisoned her, I just gave her some extra special sleepy time! She probably feels great!"

"You could have killed her." I fire back, barely keeping my tone from drifting into a growl as it's delivered through clenched teeth.

"Oh come on Cap" This time the way his unjustified annoyance manifests is the crossing of his arms and the way he rolls back on his heels a little before settling into place again. "Give me some credit, I know what I'm..."

He's trying to make excuses to justify what he did, but I'm not having any of it. "She's not human, you have no idea what that might have done to her!"

* * *

SUNDAY, MAY 13TH 2012

1148 HOURS 

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212 

* * *

BRUCE 

* * *

"Sure I do, I used blah blah blah science, Banner help me out here?" Hearing my name spoken I do finally turn to the speakers in this conversation, but it's mostly in shock that I actually heard _that._ Even though I only recently got to know Tony, I, along with most of the world, already knew what he was like. Still, I'm surprised he would actually go that far.

"What's this?" Up till now I'd been quietly observing the argument, but not participating in it. This conversation was about the features Tony had added to the house without Steve's knowledge or consent. It didn't need my input. That didn't mean I didn't have any to give though, and since Tony just got me involved, I finally share my opinion. Though as I hold out my phone for the hologram to see, it's obviously not one he was expecting. "Why are you Googling the price of shovels?"

"You're gonna need a real one soon to go with the figurative one you're already using." My answer was delivered calmly as I pocketed my phone and wiped my fingers free of crumbs. It was meant as a warning.

He takes it more as a display of disloyalty. "Oh come on, you're not on my side either?"

* * *

SUNDAY, MAY 13TH 2012

1148 HOURS 

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212 

* * *

STEVE 

* * *

Keeping my arms crossed just to keep them from doing anything else I glance over my shoulder and watch as Banner rises from his seat, and rests his weight against the island before he speaks his piece. "You just said you bet a woman's life on blah blah blah science. If I was in Steve's place, and you weren't physically in Malibu, you might not have finished that sentence." And shows which side he is on.

Tony doesn't take it well. Instead the projection throws its hands up in defeat. "Okay, fine, I am an asshole again, tally it up." Though clearly not with any sense of remorse. "I'm still right." He declares before he gestures vaguely in the direction for the basement. "She warped my walls!"

"Rachel's fine by the way, since you're so concerned." Banner is generally a calm man, but even I don't miss the spike of frustration in his tone, given that Tony seemed to care more about what happened to the building, then what happened to one of the nurses.

The hologram of Tony seems to register that too, given the way his eyebrows raise "Yes that too, and I do care, she just got one hell of raise and a new vacation home in the Keys!" But even understanding doesn't seem to translate into handling it right. _Is this how he handles everything, he just throws money at it?_ "Besides you said it was more of a mental trauma the a physical one. You treated it like a really bad sunburn Banner, come on! What's the problem here?"

* * *

SUNDAY, MAY 13TH 2012

1149 HOURS 

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212 

* * *

BRUCE 

* * *

Tony's projection aimed that question at me, but I left it unanswered for Steve intentionally. I could see the tremor in his hands that Tony probably couldn't. "She was experimented on by HYDRA Tony, what do think the problem is?"

Given my constant relationship with anger, I actually commend Steve for being able to keep his cool for so long. Even Tony seemed to finally recognize he may have pushed Steve too far given the way he steps back slightly. "Since when did HYDRA use gas chambers? I thought they just worked you to death or threw you away?" Though not enough to stop his tongue in time.

* * *

SUNDAY, MAY 13TH 2012

1149 HOURS 

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212 

* * *

STEVE 

* * *

_I can't punch a hologram. Oh God, why can't I punch a hologram?_ For a moment, nothing happens, not even a blink. Then my eyes close completely as I run my hand down my face and drive my knuckles into the curve of my nose.

"Okay..." I start as I drop my hands stiffly to my sides. "This is what's happening. Your people are going to come here and fix that room because we might need it again, but they're going to take all of _that_ out." I can hear Tony protest that, but I don't even stop to acknowledge it.

"Nora is going to be moved upstairs, where she belongs. Either Natasha or I will be with her at all times, and that is as much security measures as we are going to have. If I find out you have any more surprises in this house. We are leaving." And then I ended the oddest 'phone' call I ever made.

* * *

SUNDAY, MAY 13TH 2012

1149 HOURS 

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212 

* * *

BRUCE 

* * *

I'm not at all surprised to see his eyes shift too, and linger on the liquor cabinet before he remembers it wouldn't do him any good. Tony doesn't mean to, but even under the best of circumstance, he can be very frustrating.

So with that in mind I do my best to not add anymore stress to the situation, and elect not to tell Steve that 'Tony means well'. I know the conversations going to pick back up, and I know what it's going to be about. I'll just wait for him to decide he is ready.

* * *

SUNDAY, MAY 13TH 2012

1151 HOURS 

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212 

* * *

STEVE 

* * *

After a few minutes debating whether or not the house could use a few more interior windows, I finally turn my attention to Bruce's patient gaze. "How is she?"

After I got her out of that room, she scared me for a minute, because I could feel how weak her pulse and breathing were, and when they hooked up to the machines they only confirmed that her vitals were weak. Since then Banner has stabilized her. But she is still attached to them, and she's still asleep.

"She hasn't relapsed." He offers sympathetically, knowing that's good news, but it's still not a 'she's okay'. "They're almost done preparing the room. They're just checking it one more time to make sure they removed anything natural."

That's another thing that doesn't please me. After that incident, they examined the room. Specifically they examined what she changed. That wooden beam that she cut into bullet proof glass with. It was a piece of oak trim from the bathroom door, and the tip of it had the same density as a diamond. She did that.

Banner, after studying the rest of the room noticed a pattern in what she affected. A wooden board, a wooden wall, leather straps, and a woman's skin. This was a room full of material, but she passed over the already hard metals and plastics, and glass. If it was just matter manipulation it would make more sense for her to start with something already hard, like the metal. It would make even more since to just manipulate the glass itself. But she chose organic material. She needed cells to do what she did. Minerals and synthetic materials seemed to be beyond her abilities.

So because I said we weren't locking he up in a cage in the basement anymore they're going through the room and removing, replace, or coating anything natural with synthetic things. Nora loves nature, and I here I am letting them take it away from her, just so I can keep her. Maybe she has a reason to hate me after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

 CHAPTER SIX

* * *

SATURDAY, JUNE 2ND 2012

1852 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

The way his cheek ticks as he steps into the room, and then stops with a foot on either side is all I need to understand. He's still upset about this arrangement but he's accepting it because he knows it's the only one we have available.

After what happened on the 12th, when I came upstairs, I could tell he was fighting the urge to physically throw me out of the house. He resisted it rather well, but he didn't resist the urge to keep me out of that room.

He knew I knew something. He wasn't stupid enough to actually believe I had no idea about the security measures in this house. Once Pepper offered it to us, Clint and I both evaluated the property, and made our recommendations on what it would need to be defensible.

I don't even blame him for assuming I knew everything. We haven't exactly painted the brightest of pictures for him. Given my 'callous' attitude toward lying about a woman's entire life, and the World Council's hanging death threat. But while he had the justification, that didn't mean he had the facts.

I was just as pissed about that as he was. At myself and at Tony. I would have never allowed that if I knew. I missed that. I don't know how I missed that, but I did.

Steve wanted me gone. He didn't trust me near her anymore, and he wanted as far away from her as possible, which lead to a very intense argument. I'm well trained on how to fight bigger men, but I still don't have any desire to fight Captain America, and several times it looked like it might come to that. Eventually though we reached a truce, because I was the only one here who knew how S.H.I.E.L.D operated, and if really wanted to keep her away from them, then I needed to be here.

We also quickly discovered another reason for me to stay. The nurses were scared of her now. Some of them wouldn't even come in the room unless I and Steve were both in there with them, and while some were fine if it was only one of us, they prefered us to do the procedures that required physical contact.

Nora touched a woman's skin for a second, and heat blisters climbed from her wrist to her neck. I understand how that's terrifying to a normal person, it's not exactly comforting to me either. How do you defend against someone you won't shoot, when all they need to do is get their hands on an inch of skin? Even wearing the right clothes and armor might not be enough, because those can come off in a fight.

But she hasn't hurt us. In fact, despite her screaming at Steve, the words unknown but the rage crystal clear, when he pulled her unconscious body out of there, the tears he wiped off her cheeks put fresh pink skin on his broken knuckles. She healed him, and he hasn't been able to stop looking at that ever since, with guilt in his eyes.

* * *

SATURDAY, JUNE 2ND 2012

1853 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

It threw me for a second, even though I knew I'd probably see it. Natasha was just sitting there with Nora's hand in her's as she trimmed her nail. It bothered me at first, the scene too foreign to feel right. I've seen it several times already, and i'm not going to lie to myself about it. I'd take her screaming at me over this, at least it would be something.

We put her up here, in a place where she could be a person again. It's a nice place. It's got its own bathroom. There's a walk in closet, a shower that's big enough for several people to fit in, and has handicap rails and a bench. It has a tub too, that's made out of slate grey marble, and vinyl printed wood. The sink is made of the same marble too. I even put a fake lily in there for her because she likes flowers, and had a planter of fake ivy hung on the wall.

The bedroom is more modern than what I think Nora would like, but Miss Potts took my suggestion to heart, and had someone stitch together a patchwork quilt out of synthetic fabric to go with the rest of the bedding. I even chose a painting that reminds me a bit of a dandelion, and had a fake palm put next to the couch opposite the bed.

Then on top of that it has its own little living room. The rooms divided by a wide decorative half wall that serves as a planter box, but is currently filled with several large leafed imitations. On one side there isn't anything but a wall of shelves and a few cabinets for her to fill with books later, but on the side with the windows that stretch from floor to ceiling there is a short backed black sectional, with white pillows, and a coffee table made of light 'wood'.

I tried to fill it with things I thought she would like, and I was hoping when she woke up she would tell me how much she appreciated it. But she did wake up, and she had nothing to say, to anyone.

You say you want to take her pulse, and she'll give you her hand. You say it's time for her bath and she'll let Natasha help her up. You say it's time to eat and she'll stare vacantly out the window and accept the spoon when it gets close enough to her mouth. She gets sits there like an obedient empty doll, with eyes that always look on the verge of tears, and I hate it. I hate it so much, but nothing I say, nothing I do, nothing I offer or beg does anything.

It's been like this for weeks. Banner has reassured me several times that this state has nothing to do with the gas, partly for my own sanity, partly because I asked, and I think partly to keep me from going to beat Tony bloody.

He had J.A.R.V.I.S run some scans, and nothing suggests abnormal brain functions. Natasha has confirmed that too in her own way. Her responses are all seem to be conscious. The way her eyes react to light, and move around whether she is awake or asleep don't suggestion a neurological problem.

The only thing making Nora like this is Nora. She's deliberately shutting everything else out, and isolating herself in her own head. _I_ _defeated world domination once, but how do I win against this?_

* * *

MONDAY, MAY 14TH 2012

* * *

We didn't think it was that serious at first, we were all just happy when she started to blink and open her eyes. I was just happy. Even though we had her restrained on a different hospital bed, it was still something to celebrate. But then she just looked at me and closed her eyes again. She didn't fight, she didn't struggle, she didn't scream. She didn't do anything.

* * *

TUESDAY, MAY 15TH 2012

* * *

That hurt, but I moved past it. I made Nora mad, I did something wrong. I let this happen. I explained to her that the restraints were only temporary. They were just there until we could convince the staff she wasn't going to attack them again, that I knew that was just because of her phobia, and she didn't really mean it.

* * *

WEDNESDAY, MAY 16TH 2012

* * *

I kept telling myself it was okay, and I knew why she did what she did. But that got harder to believe. Nora had a mental condition that made her brain think any touch was like a painful attack. But now she just laid there with her eyes closed, and she never flinched. When Natasha came to adjust the IV or to check Nora's vitals, she never flinched. Nora always flinched, because even if the person touching her was wearing gloves, if Nora wasn't looking she couldn't know that until the touch happened. Natasha knew it too.

* * *

THURSDAY, MAY 17TH 2012

* * *

We started trying different things. Anytime Nora opened her eyes, we'd ask her questions. Simple things, hoping for simple answers. How did she feel? Did she want anything? Was she thirsty? Was she hungry? Did she want to wear a sweater or a robe?

* * *

FRIDAY, MAY 18TH 2012

* * *

I asked her why she wouldn't talk to me, and her eyes didn't open at all for the rest of the day.

* * *

SATURDAY, MAY 19TH 2012

* * *

I finally let Natasha try. I was still mad, and up until then I was just leaving her alone with Natasha when it was time to let her help Nora bathe. Nobody else would, and I clearly couldn't do that to Nora. Maybe Natasha would have better luck because she was a woman, maybe Natasha would have better luck because she wasn't me.

* * *

FRIDAY, JUNE 1ST 2012

* * *

Even brain storming off each other both of us knew we were running out of ideas, and both of us were beginning to wonder if there really was nothing we could do.

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

0047 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

When I woke up to the sound of her crying, I didn't care that it was after midnight. I didn't even care that she was upset, as wrong as it was I was so happy she was showing anything at all. I didn't care that I didn't know what she meant by 'he always keeps his promises'. I just held her as she started sobbing into my shirt. Telling her it was all going to be alright.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name along with a place to post suggestions.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

CHAPTER SEVEN

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1054 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

_He always keeps his promises. I did not want it like this._ That's what she said in between the sobs, and Steve's reassurances. Are they statements, or accusations? They aren't questions, or answers. But what are they? What triggered it?

While Banner went back to his rooms, and Steve stayed with her, I left on my own, watching him wrap her in his arms and tuck her under his chin. I left because I knew that if I didn't Steve would eventually remember how he no longer trusted me in her presence. I left because someone had to look at the surveillance footage.

Something happened, something changed. Something made her wrap her arms around her waist. Something made her curl into a ball and start shaking. Something made her wake up and cry. _He always keeps his promises._ _I_ _did not want it like this._

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1054 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"A tale begun in other days,"

"When summer suns were glowing–"

"A simple chime, that served to time"

"The rhythm of our rowing–"

"Whose echoes live in memory yet,"

"Though envious years would say "forget." the last word becomes a casual duet, whose calm notes lift my heart a little faster then my eyes.

"Nora..." just hearing her voice, not her sobs or her screams makes my own come out as little more than a whisper. It makes the eyes I didn't feel on me turn away.

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1055 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

He spoke that name with reverence, and then with one move I felt the terror saturate the air. I turned my eyes away from his, and now he does not know what else to do except tip toe around me. "I'm glad you're awake. Did my reading wake you?"

Is it an answer, if the words you use make a sentence? I'm not sure, but that doesn't stop them from rolling off my tongue. "That is Through the Looking Glass? By Lewis Carroll is it not?"

He straightens a little at that, his eyes glossing across the Kindle in his hand before drifting back to mine with a smile forming at the edges of his mouth. "Yes, I downloaded the whole series for you. Would you like me to keep reading?"

Alice In Wonderland. 'Alice' Hudgens, the name Clint first gave me, plucked from a book cover. Alice, the White Knight, the Red Knight, the Red Queen, the rabbit hole and the fall. I loved that story once, until I fell down my own.

Now the truth has ruined them for me. "No. I hate those stories. Can I get out of bed?"

I asked the question because I could see the grasping desperation reaching his eyes instead of his mouth first, and I did not want to listen to it. "Uh, yes." He chuckles after a moment of awkwardness, which only returns when he holds out his hand. The motion was automatic, but then he hesitated because that was not what you did with Nora. He hesitated again, this time to pull his hand away, torn between habit, and the irritation he does not understand in my eyes.

In the end I just make it easy on him, and thrust my hand out for him. Maybe I was more aggressive about it then necessary, but I do not really care. He did not either since 'Nora' just gave him her permission. It is Nora's hand he took. It is Nora's shoulder her steadied. It is Nora he touched and saw, and heard, not me. I should not hate him for that. Everything about me has changed, everything but the really important part to a human, everything but my skin. _I will try for him._

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1056 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

I have so many questions. So many things I want to talk about, so many things I want to tell her. Instead, my teeth ache in the effort of silence. Everything I've said so far has been wrong. I don't know why or what makes it wrong, but the results are indisputable. This time I'm just keep my mouth shut and let her lead the conversation.

Seeing her like this hurts. It's not quite the hollow doll she was before, because she asked for something, instead of accepting what we gave her, when we gave it to her. That's an improvement, but she is still so quiet and empty looking.

Even the way she puts her hand in mine hurts. I should be happy, because once this was one of Nora's goals; to touch someone without fear or tremors. We should be celebrating this, but it feels like a slap in the face. This change, this one among so many, it happened in a blink, it happened when she was alone among enemies. It happened when I didn't even know she needed my help.

When she first got her legs back under her, there was a moment where I felt her sway, and watched her try to blink the spots out of her eyes even though we took it slow. I'm not surprised that happened. After all, even though the reasons have changed, she has been bed bound for more than a month.

It also didn't surprise me that after the dizziness passed, her first steps were toward the window. The windows in this room stretched from the floor to the ceiling, giving her a clear view of the pines and dogwood trees outside, why wouldn't Nora, who loved nature, want to get a better look?

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1057 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

I can see him in the glass as I run my fingers across the window frame, and I can see the question coming. That is the look right before the impulse out paces logic. I do not know what the words are going to be, but I am sure I will not like them, and he will regret them so I spare us both. "Tell me what happened to Duncan?"

"Duncan?" The question mark is what stills my fingers. I am asking about a man, a man I killed, and I did not even remember that was not his real name. "Alex. Alexander Pierce Jr. What happened to him?"

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1057 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

Duncan didn't mean anything to me. Alexander didn't either. But Pierce I remembered. A dead body in a castle whose father was waiting for answers. The first person she asks about is a dead man. I have to tell her this? "Nora." I can see her eyes meet mine in the reflection of the glass, I can see them furrow as my hand rests on her shoulder. "Nora, he's..."

"Dead." I expected confusion, or sadness. I didn't except her to shrug off my hand with such calm eyes as she turned around to really look in mine. "He is dead. I know. I killed him."

"Nora, you can't blame yourse..." Maybe its preconceived notions, maybe its memories, or maybe it's just denial. But I can't believe it, Nora wouldn't kill anyone, she couldn't. Even knowing she attacked a cop and a nurse, I can't believe it. I won't let myself believe it. Nora wasn't going to go that far, she couldn't, she wouldn't? Would she?

"No Steve. I. Killed. Him." She's so calm about it "Not indirect actions, not circumstances. I put my hands on him, and I took his life away." She so calm, so certain, so quiet, but at the same time, this is the most life I've seen in her eyes. "I. Killed. Him. Now tell me what happened to him. Did they at least make him handsome for his funeral?" This man meant something to her, and I don't even who he was.

"I don't know." I admit, feeling oddly guilty that I let a stranger stay a stranger, even if my reasons were worth it. "We were busy with you." Part of me knew when I heard about his death that there would be a funeral, but a faceless name didn't mean enough to draw me away from her. "I can ask, but they said he was missing half his face. I think they cremated him."

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1058 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

Cremated? That is right. That is what S.H.I.E.L.D does. When you die, you disappear. Your life, your story, your body. 'I' did not like that before, when I was Nora. It seems so appropriate now. It is what we did, it is what they did, it is what I did. A hero's send off. It is better that he burned, then to leave him rotting in a box.

"Nora, it's alright, if you..." My thoughts were happy, about as happy as they could be, but Steve must have seen something else. He used that name again, he started speaking to comfort me, he even took a step forward to make that comfort more than words. But he used that name again. I am so tired of that name

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1058 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"Stop it." Once again, it's strange. I always respected Nora, and if she said stop, I stopped because of that. But this time, I'm stopping because it was a command. Even as calm as she sounds, there's unquestionable authority in her now. "Stop pretending you did not know. Stop pretending now that you do not know I am different."

"Nora." The protests pulled for me automatically. Nora never liked the idea of being different, she never liked that the suffering and circumstances in her life made her that way. She liked being told she was the same as everyone else. But the Nora I talk to now doesn't even let me finish the words.

"You're better than the others. You're the best Nora. You're almost human and a half." Instead she just crosses her arms softly and quotes the past. "How many times did you tell me things like that? Deep down you always knew I was different, everyone always knew."

"Why are you doing this? 'if I fall no one will ever let me walk on my own again', is that it?" We had that conversation once, when I was just getting to know Nora. I thought her strength was admirable at first, then I started to realize it was sad. She was strong all the time so no one would ever see her when she was weak. "You don't have to be strong on your own, not with me. Just let me help carry you a little."

"You do not have the right to carry me. Now go away, I would rather see Natasha."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name along with a place to post suggestions.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name. My apologies for not posting a link, but FF always seems to disable them.

CHAPTER EIGHT

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1107 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

I knew it would happen eventually, and now that she has broken herself out of her stupor, I wasn't at all surprised that she asked to see me. I was a bit surprised with how she did it though. As Nora she adored Steve, and she would have never hurt him like that, unless it has to help him somehow. Now, she barely seems to be able to tolerate his presence.

I was studying the footage of her 'waking' but I also had the live feed running muted on the monitor next to it. When I saw her wake up I took it off mute, and listened to her absolutely crush Steve before he gave up trying to persuade a statue and came to get me.

With that knowledge it was no surprise the words she chooses to greet me with. "You were watching." It's not a question, not an accusation. There's no hostility in that statement of fact, just the soft smile as her fingers continue to study the texture of modern art.

* * *

 SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1107 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

I can feel it under my fingertips, but I can not 'feel' it. Even the painting, and the canvas it is on is fake. They were very thorough with the room, right down to the acrylic paint, the heavily polyester canvas and the thick polyurethane finish on the floor. I can barely 'feel' anything in this room.

"Yes." Natasha, who is just as calm as she is unapologetic Natasha who in the absence of all other 'feeling' is something I can 'feel' most keenly. Natasha who stands safe in her own mistake, but perhaps not in ignorance?

Its that curiosity which finally draws the rest of my attention away from the environment around me to focus singularly on her. "And what do you see Agent Romanoff?"

The question makes her spare me a glance for a moment, before she resumes moving the trays of food from the cart to the coffee table in the small living room beyond the room I'm in. She's not keeping her eyes on me, she's showing me her back, she comes here dressed in casual clothes, tight off white pants with a rose and charcoal colored sweater. She comes here, and gives me displays of confidence.

Nora always new what Natasha was, a spy in the service of S.H.I.E.L.D, but is Arnora now, I have a better perspective because I'm looking at all of this with a analyzing lense of suspicion. I'll acknowledge that she will no doubt be better at this game then I am, because I was never trained, but I know enough to see it. My survival depended on that once.

* * *

 SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1108 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

 NATASHA

* * *

 

Since it wasn't quite noon yet the kitchen was still making our actual lunch in the separate staff house. Nora's race has a much higher calorie intake then then an average human woman, so I asked them to throw together a meat and cheese platter while we waited. Given that these were employees of Stark, what we got was more than pepperoni with cheddar and club crackers.

I recognized peanuts, candied cashews, and dates. There was tangerine slices, raspberries, and grapes. It had Swiss Cheese, Monterey Jack, wedges of Blue Cheese, Brie and thinly sliced prosciutto with sprigs of fresh rosemary. That was only one tray. The next had a variety of crackers made from various wheats, wafers, and dried baguette slices. They also includes several pinches of organic pear juice, and the proper utensils, all of plastic.

_What do I see? I_ see a clear and definitive shift between Nora and the woman standing in front of me, even though she is standing there in yellow socks and a nightgown whose blue sleeves don't match the pink collar or the pastel green dress.

_I see all the potential I suspected might be there, finally coming to bloom._ "I see confidence in you." I _see a familiar face, with the wrong eyes._ "I see control, the kind that necessity breeds." _The festering coldness._ "I see the way your calm belies your cruelty."

* * *

 SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1109 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

 ARNORA

* * *

 

_Observation and accusation. Hmm._ She dislikes my treatment of Steve. That much is easy to see in those words. They also reveal a degree of camaraderie. In 'Nora's' memory Natasha and Steve never met, but it seems in my absence they formed a bond. She cares about how Steve feels. Interesting, given how much he seems to feel the opposite.

"I am not calm." I offer back, my words contradicting the lack of inflection in my voice. "I am rational. You built this room with lies because you knew I would not be calm. Everything in here is an imitation meant to lessen your fear of me." _All knowledge I welcome, but sometimes I would still prefer a kick in the teeth._

* * *

 SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1110 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

 NATASHA

* * *

She's absolutely right, and there's no point pretending she's not. "Your power is impressively frightening, yes." I admit without hesitation, then continue on and elaborate on the rest of what motivated that decision. "But we also did it to protect you. We can't very well keep you safe if you keep tearing apart the house."

I got her to laugh and smile with those words. I watched her as she took a breath and her eyes crinkled with her chuckle, before she tilted her head a bit to the side, regarding and studying me as she asked her question. "Are you afraid of me Natasha?"

"Yes." denying it is pointless. We both already know the answer. But there's still a question there. "Should I be Nora?"

Again, she give me a chuckle, though this one stops after one, and a followed by a small smile. "Cowards deny their fear, while the intelligent admit it." She follows that wisdom with silence, our conversation internalizing for a moment in what clearly is her making a decision. It's one I find myself rather okay with. "But you do not need to worry. While hurting you would calm my anger, it will do nothing to answer my questions. You will pay your debt for the years you lied to me another way."

I suppose there's some comfort in the fact she didn't jump right to wanting to kill me, and settled for hurt. "That's very considerate of you."

I meant that sincerely as a compliment, but her response gives me as much insight as it does surprise. "No, not consideration, just self control." There's a passive sort of resignation there, and it makes me wonder how long she's lived like that. Keeping her feelings on a tight leash?

My attention drifts from that train of thought though when I notice how her's fixates on something else. The way her eye trails slowly over the food suggests intense thought as much as confusion at its presence. "You're welcome to it."

That sentence is met by her eyes meeting mine, and a snort of amusement, which is replaced once again by confusion as she pick up a slice of cheese. "It's not poisoned. Why?"

That she called us out on poisoning her is both correct, and a miscategorization. Generally the goal of poisoning is death, but we have no desire to kill her. She's still right though that we did 'poison' to keep her weak and controllable. Our deception depended on the illusion that she was a normal human being.

To do that, S.H.I.E.L.D's biology department suggested a compound that would shorten the life of her cells. It was originally designed as a cancer treatment. They created a virus, that they could program to target certain cells, and quicken the rate with which they reached atrophy. In humans though it proved too effective, it often sent the patient into cardiac arrest from the shock to their system. In her though,because her cells were stronger then ours, it just kept her 'sick' enough that she passed as one of us.

"No. We won't be doing that anymore." We administered the drug by putting it in her pain killers, vitamins, and allergy medicine. We told her she had a sulfite sensitivity to explain the symptoms that arose from the drug. The levels of the drug always seemed to diminish after she ate, and as her body went through withdrawal, the symptoms often appeared. Given their similarity to the actual allergy it made for a convenient excuse and solution. "You can tell that just by touch?"

This time her breathed chuckle is matched with a small grin. "Yes." Then she closes her eyes, and lets her head rift in clear concentration. "I can tell this cheese is organic, and that the cows were grass fed." Then they open again with another chuckle. "If I knew your planet better, I might even be able to narrow down the region with enough time."

"That's impressive." That's also honest. "What made you learn to do that?" It's also curiosity, on top of my normal fishing for information.

It also is connected to bad memories. All the humor leaves her face, and something darker and sadder moves in. "There are different kinds of poison."

* * *

 SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1112 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

 ARNORA

* * *

 

She wants my memories, she wants the history they don't have on file. They want answers, that I understand. But I am tired, and I do not want these memories, not now. I do not want what comes with them. I want what I am missing. "Your masters have questions Natasha, and I'll answer them eventually, but I'm owed my own first."

"Well then..." The 'Master's' part stings in ways she doesn't know, and leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Its one I don't try to wash away though because its not completely wrong. From what I understand about Asgard, her assumptions makes sense for a woman who was no doubt born under a monarchy.

"What do you want?" The question is asked with a gesture of trust. I'm skilled in combat, no one here is stupid enough to doubt that, but I'm also sitting down now. I'm giving her the high ground, and the avantage.

She takes it, and then drops it as she sits down to on the couch angled across from me, nothing separating us but a coffee table and the plastic cup she holds out for me to fill for her.

We're both testing each other and dancing. She'd probably tear me to pieces if I verbalized this now, but I'm so proud of my 'little sister' right now.

"I was not S.H.I.E.L.D's" I can hear the 'leash' slacken by the tremble in her voice before she tightens it back up. There's strength in that, even if she has to close her eyes and clench her teeth to keep the pain inside."I'm missing half a century. I want to know what changed?"

That same strength lends its fire to her anger. "I want to know what you know, then I want to talk to someone who knows the rest. I want to know what S.H.I.E.L.D did to me!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

 CHAPTER NINE

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1821 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

This room is as much of a lie as the other one, I imagine any room they will let me be in, will be. The floor and the ceiling look like wood, but do not feel like it. As do the cabinet doors on the shelves and the desktop, as well as the large fern in the round white pot. All fake, all wise decisions born out of fear.

I learned the power of fear a _long_ time ago, technically speaking, though it seems much shorter in my memory. I learned the balance of it. I learned that a little fear could turn into respect, and reverence. I learned that a little fear could go a long way in keeping me, a girl alone on a foreign planet, safe. I also learned that too much would make me hunted. _I_ _learned how to use a little fear to my advantage, but to what lingers of 'Nora', that her 'friends' fear her doesn't feel any less then a kick in the teeth._

I am so tired of fear. I am so tired of being afraid. I miss the days when it was not a fixture of my life. I want it to stop, yet I keep drinking that poison, letting that fear fill me and cloak me like my life depends on it. _I am so tired, why could they not just let it stop?_

"Hello Miss Elaine..."

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1822 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

BRUCE

* * *

It took a lot of convincing, particularly on Steve's part, to persuade him that I needed to see my patient alone. Eventually though he surrendered to the uncomfortable idea after I mentioned that there would be a physical examination. It turns out that as far as Captain America is concerned, partial nudity trumps dangerous.

As for Natasha, she barely put up an argument. She just reminded me to wear my gloves and keep my distance when possible.

I don't blame either of them for then concern. Our goal is to keep everyone here safe, especially Miss Elaine. Its also obvious that if she chooses to she can be rather dangerous. But Natasha assured me is an 'Agent' however unoffical that rank was, she is aware of the 'other guy', and she has shown herself to be smart enough that I don't think she will risk meeting 'him' in person.

"Hello Miss Elaine..., I'm Dr Banner." There's no outward acknowledge of my presence or my greeting that I can see as she lies quietly on the hospital bed but I know she is very aware I'm here so I just move right along.

"It's nice to officially meet you." I may have been taking care of her for over a month now, but that was more like taking care of a doll than an actual person.

"Now then..." In the absence of a response again, I take the opportunity and sit in the black pleather office chair next to the hospital bed and flip open the thin plastic binder with her file. "I suppose the first thing I should ask, is what name would you like to me to call you?"

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1822 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

_What name would you like to me to call you?_ That is what makes me open my eyes. This man sits here calmly in his blue button up, white lab coat, and wire frames. This man who 'Nora' only knew through his impact on other people's lives sits here. This man, who has no history with me. Letting out a huff I have to close my eyes to keep the pooling tears inside. "You are the first person to ask me that question."

He is sitting right there so I have no doubt he can see what I am feeling, but I do appreciate the way he does not bother stumbling through an apology over it, and chooses to take the professional path."Well, as I understand it, Nora Elaine was the fake identity S.H.I.E.L.D gave you, but now that they tell me your memories have returned, I imagine you'd prefer your real name?"

Bruce Banner, Harborger of the Hulk. A man who is not my friend, or my 'family', and he is the first one to think of that consideration. _How absurd._

"You can call me Arnora." _I thought I could leave name behind once, but it pursued me and I am not running from it again._ "It means the Eagle of Thor."

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1823 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

BRUCE

* * *

The dispassionate, yet slightly frustrated way she says that last part makes me decide against bringing up said Norse god. Whatever past she has involving him, it doesn't seem like she considers it a pleasant one, and since that's not relative to her treatment I'll leave it alone.

' I hated you once." That point comes rather abruptly, and stops me from finishing the O as I write her name down. "Did they tell you that?"

"Yes." I say after a sigh. "I had an interesting conversation with Natasha on the plane ride from Kolkata. She said you weren't my biggest my fan since I threw part of a Jeep in her direction during the fight at Culver. She also gave me the impression that you tried not to judge someone based on their actions toward others. Are you still that kind of person?"

"I would like to think so." She admits quietly, as if she herself is unsure. Then after a moment she speaks again, and this sentence is stronger. "but I think you broke my leg and almost got me killed."

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1824 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

That brings him up short for a moment, not that I care. I am too tired for niceties at this point. "You think I broke your leg?"

Nodding I fist up my hand lightly over the gown that is covering the mark on my chest already aware that he knows a bit about it. "This mark links my magick to Loki, it lets him use it as he pleases."

This is obviously the part where I do some explaining, and fill in some of the details about what happened so he doesn't waste time interrupting, and instead chooses to memorize it for when he retells it to Natasha. "We were attacked by the aliens, and in the middle of the fight even though nothing touched me, I felt my leg break in several places and something slamming me into a wall. Does that sound at all familiar to you?"

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1824 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

BRUCE

* * *

I grabbed Loki by the leg and swung him into the floor half a dozen times. Yeah that sounds very familiar. Suddenly my pride at stopping him single handedly doesn't feel so great. "If I'd known it would have hurt hurt you I'd..."

She doesn't finish that sentence, her voice, and the intensity in her eyes substituting her own ending."...ask you to do it anyways. Do not feel guilty about hurting me through Loki. He needed to be stopped. I actually planned on killing him, before you all took that option from me."

That clears up one emotion, but only makes room for concern to move in its place. "If the mark let's Loki's pain becomes yours, you know it's very likely his death might kill you right?"

"I never belonged on this planet, the least I can do is try to keep it safe." And her answer does nothing to lessen it.

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1825 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

For a moment he does not say anything, he simply pinches his lips together as he takes off his glasses and fiddles with them a bit. Then they find a place in his lap as his words find their place too. "Miss Arnora, I'm not a psychiatrist I'm here to take care of physical health, but between that and what happened in the park, I have to ask. Do you want to commit suicide?"

Despite the seriousness of that question, she lets out a exasperated laugh before she meets my eyes with sad ones. "I want to be able to rest, and I want the pain to stop."

That last part hooks my attention. In the time she has been awake, even though 'awake' was an exaggeration for most of that time, she would answer our questions. Any time I asked her if she was in pain, she would always say yes. This time though, because I can get more than a yes or no out of her I ask the question differently. "How often are you in pain?"

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1825 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

"Anything can be tolerated if it is consistent, pain is no exception." There is pity in his eyes after hearing that. I hate it, but I accept it because what other response could a sentence like that really get me?

"Arnora if you're in that much pain, please, let me give you something." He pleads softly, no doubt recalling every no I have said to that before, and that I say again.

"I will not take your chemicals." Those words come out hostile despite myself. I know he is not going to poison me, I know he is not my enemy. I know he means well. But he is a doctor, in a coat just like 'his', wearing glasses just like 'him'. I know they are not the same, but nothing I tell myself will make me trust anything from someone like that again.

"I understand why you don't want them." He offers, proving that he too has read the files on me, and knows what HYDRA did with me. "But if you refuse to take any medicine, I can't help you. What can I give you to meet me halfway?"

He looks so confused its almost cute when my first suggestion is "Willow Bark."

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1826 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

BRUCE

* * *

_Willow Bark?_ She wants to go the homeopathic route? I suppose that makes sense since Natasha mentioned that she actually analyzed her food by touch before she ate it. But she also touched the wood in the basement and used it to break bullet proof glass.

The doctor me in me wants to explore any method of treatment my patient will accept, but the caution in me also knows that giving organic medicine might not be the wisest choice for the safety of others. Then again we are feeding her organic food, and the goal ultimately is to win her trust back.

Teasing my lip for a minute I weigh those decisions a little longer before I look back up at her with my decision. "Even if I was willing to take that risk, and trust that you wouldn't use materials against us. Organic remedies aren't as potent as modern medicine you know that right?"

She nods, but then she completely destroys my argument. "I can make them as potent." _Well, shit._

Can't really argue with that, because I have seen her alter organic matter and I don't know enough about her ability to judge how finely she can effect change. That still doesn't assure me she won't use it violently again, but I suppose I'm just going to have to take that on faith for now and hope for the best.

There's also the problem of there is no president on how to treat what seems like a magickal conduit attached to someone's skin. I don't even know what that feels like, let alone how it actually works, so I'm just going to consider her as the expert on the matter. "Homeopathy is something I don't know much on right now, so I'm going to do some research. Can you suggest anything, and tell me what the pain feels like?"

"I have never had it, but from what I know, fibromyalgia sounds close." She submits after thinking about it for a minute. "Cayenne Pepper, Ginger, Turmeric, and...Black Pepper?" She list the last one with uncertainty but I write it down anyway. "I can adjust the curcumins in them. Rosemary, oregano, and celery seeds are also effective."

The number of things she is able to list off so quickly makes it obvious that her knowledge on the subject is larger than mine, though I still intend to check before I give her anything to ingest.

That solves the issue of medication, even though its in the future tense. But that still leaves an issue in the present. "Alright, I'll work a prescription for you and let you examine it soon. Now if you don't mind I'd like to examine your tattoo. Would you like me to wait on the other side of the divider?"

I said it is a courtesy, but even so there's a bit of a smirk as she shakes her head and slowly stands from the hospital bed. "There is no need." That sentence just proves how wide the rift is between the women removing her hospital gown and revealing the grey underwear set without hesitation, and the women they tell me used to have to wear gloves just to shake someone's hand.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name along with a place to post suggestions.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

CHAPTER TEN

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1907 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

I could hear the staff setting out our dinner. Mine, and Natasha's at least. J.A.R.V.I.S told us Bruce would be eating his dinner with Nora so they could keep talking. The staff won't go near Nora unless they absolutely have to at this point. I hate that they ostracize her like that, because all Nora ever really wanted was to be able to be around people, but I get it. Nora hurt a woman just by putting her hands on her.

I had been the kitchen, staring out the window doing a bad job of pretending like the scenery was in any way interesting to me. I choose the kitchen at first, because it wasn't the up stairs, but it was is close is I could be to the staircase and the elevator leading up there.

When I realized I was making the staff feel awkward with my anxious fidgeting though I crossed the distance to the living room instead, and sat where I could still see the stairs and the elevator.

I barely even waited for the elevator doors to close behind Natasha before I asked my first question, standing and approaching her even is the words leave my mouth. "How is she?"

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1908 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

The naked desperation in those words almost stings, and I can tell he feels the same way about it once he registers that it's there.

When I called her on the cruelty inside her calm, this was it. Steve want nothing but to be there for her in every conceivable way. He's try trying to dance barefoot over red hot pins, and not only is she refusing to give him her hand, she's throwing the occasional rock.

"She's fine Steve." I offer in a moment of mercy is we both sit down at the dinner table, reassuring him that nothing came out his concerns of leaving her alone with Banner, or him alone with her. "Bruce said she was very civil with him, and that she seemed very comfortable around him."

"Bruce said?"The subtext is all in his tone, and unmissable despite the fact that I casually take the time to fill my glass with water before I answer. "Yes, Bruce said. I didn't see her. She was still getting dressed." The sound of his softly choking on air is the reason I didn't fill his glass too.

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1908 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

_She's getting dressed, she took off her...but she....?_ I've had time to adjust to today's standard, even though some things still tend to stick because in my head,it's only been a little more than a year. This is one of them. A woman undressing in the presence of a man who's not her husband. I get that things are different, and it's not is much of a taboo is it was in the 40's. But it's less about the fact that Nora shouldn't, is it is about the fact she wouldn't. Nora, my Nora, would pass out from a panic attack well before she got a few layers off.

"She's fine Steve." I should be frustrated by that, how I'm sitting here is open is a book in front of a woman who's done more to loose my trust then gain it. I though during the fight that she was someone I could count. Her courage, and the way she threw herself into the fight were more than admirable.

I had Nora's story of her incredible sister in my head, and once I made the connection, the trust just slipped into place. Then it was Nora again who shattered it with a hammer. This woman's a liar, and a manipulator. I shouldn't be giving her anything, but I can't be bothered to care. "Is she really fine, is that Banner all told you?"

"Steve, I'm not her Doctor." the reminders gentle but its impact is not.

"No, yeah, your right, patient confidentiality, he can't tell us." it's not like before, where I forgot something 'new', that's something we had, I'm just so frustrated by the fact I can't do anything, that I'm apparently losing my mind a little. "It's just Nora doesn't even want to talk to me."

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1909 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

_He's not going to take this well._  It's a gift that I'm reluctantly about to give him, becuase its also a set back. He won't appreciate it at all, and even if he might understand, it's just still going to lose me what ever ground I've been trying to gain. "It might help, if you started using her actual name."

"She told you her name?" There's confusion, curiosity and a little guilt in there. That's before I crush it though and leave room for his anger in the wake of the truth.

"No, she told Banner." We both had the same concerns. Leaving someone who could affect human flesh alone in a room with the man who contains the Hulk was a huge risk. But even though we both agreed not to be physically present in the room, I wasn't going to leave them entirely unsupervised. I spied on them. It won't matter to Steve that I told J.A.R.V.I.S to mute any parts of the conversation that fell under patient confidentiality, and therefore only heard her name out of the entire conversation. All he will see is that I spied. "But you should get it from her, not me."

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1910 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"So I have to respect her privacy, but you don't?" For the last year, I've been listening to how my friend of spoke of her sister with love, so I'm trying really hard to get along with her, but then Natasha goes and says things like that.

And she does at again. "She knew I'd be watching Steve, and no, you don't have to. But I can't imagine a situation where you wouldn't." ?But the exact opposite effect. My irritation turns into shame, just for the fact I implied I would.

_Let it go. It's not a fight worth having._  Warring amongst ourselves isn't going to help Nora.  _When did that ever become part of me? Walking away from a fight, instead of chasing it?_ I'll wonder about that later though, because it doesn't matter now. I have other thoughts that take precedence. "Why would she tell him that, and not us? She hardly even knows him."

"Perhaps that's why Steve." She offer is she takes another drink like all of this is nothing to her. "When Bruce looks at her, he's just looking at her. He's not looking for someone else in her." I know to you 'Nora Eliane' was your friend, but to her 'Nora Elaine' was a lie that was forced on her. You need to stop looking for her and start looking at her."

All those words do is remind me of hers. A month after meeting Nora I found out a secret I didn't even know she was keeping.  _"Your eyes changed? you know now, don't you? I'm sorry. I probably should have told you. It's just... it was so nice. Everybody else, they look at me like they can see a crack and there just waiting for it to break so they can bring out the glue. You looked at me like I was normal."_

It's not the same but it's got enough similarities. Nora hated the way people tiptoed around her waiting for the broken version of her to appear, and I am basically doing the same damn thing. Im tiptoeing around her, hoping for the familiar version of her to appear.  _God I'm such an idiot._ Of course she'd like Banner, it's the same reason she liked me so much when we first met. He has no expectations of how she should be, just how she is.

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1911 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

_And the guilty look comes back at race track speeds._ It's almost to watch is he drops his weight and elbow on to the table, while burying his face in his hand. "I know...." He finally admits after letting out a sigh and running his hand over his hair is he straightens back up. "It's just, a month ago, I thought everything was fine. I thought she was safe and she was still the woman I knew. Then she pointed a weapon at me, attacked people, says she killed a man, and is stripping for strangers without hesitation!" He finishes with a passionate flourish of his hand, before everything just melts back out of him is his hand sinks listly back to the table.

"I don't know this woman, but I don't know how to to not see Nora when that's Nora's face?" The desperate hopefulness in his expression definitely hurts.

"I can't help you with that Steve." I meant it is a comforting gesture, but the way his eyes linger on my hand over his makes me keep the touch short. "This is something you need to figure out yourself, and with her. Any help I give is really just cheating, and in this situation nobody benefits from that."

"I know" he sighs is he rests his forehead against his palm and glances longingly at the staircase by the windows. "It's just, before she might have had her quirks, but I could still figure out what she wanted. Now I can't even find a clue."

"She wants to talk to S.H.I.E.L.D" W _ell, that definitely got his attention._

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1912 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"What?" I can't believe I heard that right, except that her expression is clearly saying I did. "No, absolutely not! Whatever she wants you can get it."

"Except I can't." She doesn't even seem fazed by my refusal, and just lets it roll easily over her head is she meets it with her counter argument. "She wants answers Steve, and I can give her some, but she's never going just to take my words is truths again."

_Because you spent her entire know life lying to her!_ The vindictive part of my brain chimes in before I push it back. I can be petty, or I can be productive in this discussion and i'm inclined toward the latter. "But you think she'll just take theirs?"

"No, I think she'll take the proof he can bring her."

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1912 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

"Who's he?" I knew that would get his attention, narrowing it down from an organization to an individual.

"She's got an ally on the Council. His name's Alexander Pierce." Watching his eyes shift from suspicion to surprise just confirms I was right about the work I'd have to put in on this.

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1912 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

The name threw me for a second, because I had Nora's voice in my head asking about him. Then I remembered more of her words, and how one of them was Jr. Nora wasn't asking about the man Natasha's talking about, she's talking about Pierce Sr. "The father of the man Nora claims she killed! You're kidding right?"

"No. I'm not." I don't understand how she can look so calm about that. The emotion in her face isn't any more then is if she was saying she wanted chocolate not vanilla. "He wants to meet her, and she wants to meet him. This is actually a good thing." Watching my eyebrows shoot up doesn't even slow her down. "If we let this happen it gives her what she wants, and it strengthens his case with the Council. They've always viewed her a bit like a nuke. Something incredibly danger that everyone either wants or wants to destroy. Letting them have a conversation will help prove that she's not a button's push away from blowing up, might get her a 2nd ally from the Councilman who's already on the fence."

"But we don't know that." Maybe Natasha really can separate the emotion out of it just is easily is she seem to be able to. But I don't know about that about this man, and for lack of of another suspect so far, this Pierce Sr believes my friend killed his son. "You saw what she did downstairs."

* * *

SUNDAY, JUNE 3RD 2012

1913 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

I get his reluctance. If I didn't know Pierce personally I would be reluctant to let him talk to his son's killer too. But I know the man, and that knowledge cancels Steve's argument in my opinion. "Yes, after she woke up, trapped in a room with a stranger who was doing things without her consent. This time she asked."

It doesn't cancel it in his opinion though."And what if that's just to get him here? What if she just wants to make S.H.I.E.L.D pay?"

The fact he feels the need to ask these questions is fine to me. I'd prefer it. Its better to work out these concerns in advance, then for him to just hold them in and worry. He might still keep the worry, but at least he'll understand the logic."If she wanted to hurt him she wouldn't have asked. These people seem to live for thousands of Steve. She's got no reason to hurry."

That reminder silences him for a second. "Okay. Fine. Maybe your right." I've known, and most of S.H.I.E.L.D's higher level Agents have know for a very long time how different Nora's life span was from ours and we came to terms with it. I forgot that Steve's just recently found that out. It has to be strange for him, to realize his 'younger' friend might actually have century's on him

"But we need to be in there with her." Yet it still doesn't do anything to lessen his need to protect her.

"Don't take this the wrong way Steve, but we definitely 'shouldn't' be there for this conversation." He honest to god looks offended that I'd even suggest that, but I don't let that emotion slow me down. "She's trying to fill in the blank spaces of her life, and she may not want to share what she finds out. You shouldn't force her to have to. Every decisions that mattered for the last three years has been made for her, even now we're still kind of doing that. She hasn't asked to leave because she know we won't even let her outside, and she's just resigned herself to that since it's what she's used to from us. It's time to start turning that around, and we need to make some concessions to do that."

He still looks offended but there's also a lot of frustration now that dwarfs that, and resignation. "You're right, I know you're right but what about his safety? If she does anything to him, the entire world will come for her."

"We'll take precautions Steve." I offer with a soft smile. "And we have a J.A.R.V.I.S."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name along with a place to post suggestions.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

 CHAPTER ELEVEN

* * *

TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1123 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay with this Arnora?" Once we cleared the obstacle of getting Captain America to agree to the meeting, it was onto the next major obstacle of getting the Council to agree on it and ironing out the terms.

Councilman Pierce was more than ready to sit down, and even if Councilman Malick was agreeable, they weren't just going to let a major world leader sit down in front of a potentially unstable 'bioweapon' without some serious discussion and safe guards on both sides.

Their original list included the meeting happening at a location of their choosing, with a security teaming of their choosing, and the Captain and I occupying a secure viewing suite. None of which was going to fly.

We eventually, with the exhaustive efforts of the Councilman, got the rest of the world council to agree to more reasonable terms. The meeting would happen here. We would also allow a team of their choosing on the property, and a strike agent to stand guard alongside me during the meeting. But all of that would only occur after our own security rendezvoused with them at a preselected location, to search them for any unauthorized chemical agents or surveillance equipment and then escorted them back in our own vehicles.

The STRIKE Agent they choose is none other than Brock Rumlow. He was the temporary commander of STRIKE while Agent Pierce Jr was carrying out a joint undercover mission with MI-6, but now that Pierce is dead that promotion became permanent. In that regard it is not only the obvious choice but the perfect one. On the other hand, it's quite possibly the dumbest choice they could make, because he once tried to get way too personal with her in an elevator corner.

I know she isn't that same timid woman with same fears anymore, she has been making it very clear that she is not Nora now. Enthusiastically so in fact, which is what has me concerned with this. She is emphasising it far too much for me to really believe there's nothing of 'Nora Eliane' left. There's always something left, so even though she said his presence was fine I'm not really buying that.

* * *

TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1124 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

It felt nice, even if I knew I shouldn't let it. I woke up not because I was rested, but because my chest hurt so much. Breathing ached a little but it was easily tolerable, lifting my arms too high however was not. I managed well enough in the shower that I didn't need Natasha to bath me like an invalid, but I left myself suffering for it which is why I am sitting on the couch in my bathrobe letting Natasha carefully work out the snarls in my damp hair.

I should hate this. I should hate that I need this. I should hate that its her, a traitor doing this. But the sun is warm on my skin, and each drag of the soft bristles sends pleasant tingles through my scalp making it easier to ignore my aching shoulders. I should hate that I just want to keep my eyes closed so I can pretend that she is another woman who despite all the reasons she gave me I could never truly bring myself to hate.

Her voice finally broke that illusion, to some disappointment. But I knew it would happen eventually. There were plans in place today that even the pleasant pull of nostalgia couldn't tempt me from forever.

"I'm not scared of Agent Rumlow Natasha." I inform her with a bit of a smile and a sigh as I look slightly over my shoulder at her, before straightening my neck back to alleviate the discomfort.

* * *

TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1125 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

"I believe you." I assure her as I put down the hairbrush and after pushing her robe off her shoulders a bit, replacing it with the jar of cream Mrs. Saunders made. Because Arnora rightfully distrusts all modern medicine, Banner hired Madilynn and her knowledge is a holistic practitioner to help him. It's a homeopathic version of Icy-Hot, made from beeswax that's been softened with Olive and Coconut oil, that contains an essential oil blend of Peppermint, Eucalyptus, Clove, Ginger, and Black Pepper. She made one for me too after I tried it and asked because Icy-Hot stinks. "That's not my point."

We spent so long handling her with kid gloves, why wouldn't she assume that my words came with the same intentions now. "What I'm saying is he's a great agent AND a pig headed creep." I can't see her smile but I definitely hear her huff in agreement. "You don't have to tolerate him if you don't want to. They're here now. There's no more Council members to negotiate with, it's just Pierce. All I have to do is talk to him, and he'll put Rumlow on the perimeter."

Her breathing slows and settles, but then it's followed by a very light shake of her head she comes to a decision "No."

Watching her stand after that word and start shrugging her shoulders out of the robe, I lend a hand is she keeps talking. "They wanted security for Councilman Pierce, and he didn't object which means he would feel more comfortable with it too. I can handle Rumlow. "

I can't help but smirk at that, not because I doubt her, but because I believe her. She keeps giving more and more evidence to back her words. Body language, tone, poise, and the the know how to paint a scene or herself. The Ao Dai she had me buy proves that. The dress is just different enough to be new and just familiar enough to be 'Nora' with the white fringe shirt and worn out jeans underneath. The IV she wants me tape on but not in her skin serves the same purpose. It's just enough to make them underestimate her. She's setting their perceptions. Seeing her this capable, I'm kinda proud.

* * *

TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1128 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

Stepping through the door of what was Pepper's office, and will be again when we finally leave this place I find Councilman Pierce and Agent Rumlow right where I told security to leave them, after that they didn't need to be guarded because the entire house could do that anyways.

"Councilman..." I greet them as they twist to look over their shoulders at my entrance. "...Agent Rumlow. I apologize for the wait. She's ready to see you now."

Rumlow, in his usual lack of manner doesn't put much effort into hiding the roll of his eyes, but on the other side of the spectrum Pierce is gracious about it as he stands and shakes my hand "Oh, nonsense. We came just for her so what's a few more minutes?"

"I'm sure she'll appreciate that" I follow as I release his hand. "Now I trust our men told you what's expected yes?"

He confirms it with a nod first. "I already changed into the outfit you specified, and they said that we would be meeting her upstairs in her suite. Once I am seated, any unauthorized movement from either of us will be reported by the houses A.I. and the meeting will end. I am allowed to talk freely with her and pass her any objects across the table, but I must remove my hand before she can take it, and under no circumstances am I to remove my gloves or touch her. They also assured me the treats I brought will be given to her later?"

"Yes" I nod again. "I'm sorry about that, and I'm sure she will love them, but we don't want to give her anything she could manipulate. Now then..." This part I direct toward Agent Rumlow as well. "...are then any concerns you would like to address before we begin?" Who despite often having something to say, just shakes his head and continues his silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES FOR THE READERS:
> 
> I know this chapter is short, and that I've missed a few weekend postings but I've been busy being involved in my friends wedding. The next chapter will be longer, and hopefully my regular schedule will resume.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

CHAPTER TWELVE

* * *

TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1132 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

His casual is a navy two piece suit and the thick round frames of his glasses. I would say the consistency was nice if it was not for the blue polka dot tie almost chilling out warmth out of my heart. _He said he couldn't wait to see me in a dress. He'd save his money just to get me a nice one. Something blue, with polka dot like the women in the magazines._ He said so many things, and all they ever became is my memory of someone else's dreams, all he ever became was a ghost or my insanity. "Councilman Pierce..."

His shadow though is a color palette of black and questionable standards. He strolls in, pretentiously casual in his black jeans that doesn't match his half buttoned black button up, or the thigh length black jacket whose shade does not conform either. I find his consistency pleasant is well. His eyes are black too, but only with hungry intentions. It is familiar, and it is a welcome distraction I can use against my memories. "..., Agent Rumlow. Thank you both for coming."

"Thank you for letting us come" Comes Pierce's overly diplomatic reply. " As you know, the World Councils not very comfortable with the idea of the world's superheroes harboring a potential fugitive."

I find amusement and appreciation in the way he glossed over the truth of the concern, that they are more concerned that i am extraterrestrial who might be a fugitive, that i am an extraterrestrial who knows she is one now, who is not fooled by an excellent costume. It is like being at court, mockery and insults and schemes hidden behind artfully delivered words. I always hated that even when I had to participate, and I certainly never missed it. "Cut the crap Sir, and take off your tie."

The air changes quickly is Agent Rumlow's hands hides itself from my sight behind his jacket, and the voice of J.A.R.V.I.S spills out of the speaker. "Miss Arnora, I would highly adv...

"I know you have seen files on the park. If I wanted to hurt you, I would not need that." I finish, having taken the next breath to form my words. "I do not even want it. It just brings up unpleasant memories. Please take it off."

The silence I started held the room for twenty seconds before it is shattered with a smirk. "I always knew we'd see a stronger version of you some day." And the confusing offer of his hand. "Its an honor to finally meet you miss Arnora."

* * *

TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1133 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

"Should I end the meeting Miss Romanoff?" Asks J.A.R.V.I.S from the speaker above my head is I watch the muted surveillance he just brought to my attention.

Councilman Pierce has yet to sit and is now standing before her, his legs on the opposite side of the coffee table. He is currently holding his gloved hand out, waiting patiently for her to take it first is she looks at him with furrowed brows. "No. They're fine. Tell the kitchen" I inform the A.I. is I swipe the live feed off my screen and slide my phone back in my pocket. _We all knew we left those loopholes on purpose._

* * *

TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1133 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

_He wants to shake my hand?_ My eyebrows are drawn with so much question that is I look up I can see them blur into my view.

"They told me you can affect organic matter through physical contact" He elaborates is he sees my hesitation, then lets his actions further my confusion peels his gloves off. "But it's as you said, if you wanted to hurt me a couple feet and some rubber wont save me. So, in the spirit of cutting the crap, I would like to shake your hand and prove you're not is dangerous is everyone else expects you to be."

The smiles empty, and so are my eyes is I let them close and let my head droop with a sad little chuckle. "I killed your son Sir." I though he knew that, maybe I was wrong to assume that. "You should not want to shake my hand. I might be that dangerous."

Finally his hand drops, and I would say that pleased me, except that so does the rest of him is he sits down right next to me and touches my hand anyways. "My dear I don't know what happened in that castle, but I know victims don't tell their murderers that it's okay and they should smile. However he died, Alex died content knowing that you wouldn't."

I never said he could touch my hand, so I just take it back, not with anger, or disgust, just back. I am not here for a heart to heart, or the comfort of human contact. I do not have enough time or room for that stupid sentiment. My feelings are a privilege I cannot afford anymore, and I do not think I deserve them anyways. "You will have to forgive me councilman, but I did not ask you here for emotional support."

"No, of course not." He agrees with a nod is he lets the diplomat in him take charge again. "You wanted answers. Where would you like to start?"

The first questions is actually directed away from the man bold enough to sit next to me, and instead to the man I always thought would do it first. "You were there Agent Rumlow. how did we end up in that castle?"

His silence is curious, because I have never known him to lack confidence, and it is offensive enough to make me turn my gaze and suspicion to his boss. "It's not what you think" He is quick to apologise, and wisely is quick to explain. "He was there during the attack on New York, but his vocal cords are burned."

While it sound far to convenient and ridiculous, it ultimately does not matter rather or not I choose to take his word. After all, I can simply find out with a touch "If you trust me..." I direct at Agent Rumlow is I lift my hand in invitation"... I am strong enough to heal that."

True to the story that he cannot speak, I can see the arrogant amusement and annoyance in his eyes at what I am sure he took is a challenge, just like I can see the orders he was no doubt give to behave, with the way he looks at Councilman Pierce for permission.

There is almost no hesitation in how quickly he gets that permission, not that I imagined there would be much. S.H.I.E.L.D kept me around in the hopes someday I would develop an ability, why would they hesitate to accept a demonstration now that I finally have one?

With his permission, Rumlow shows just is little hesitation. He cannot let himself be intimidated by me after all, he is far to arrogant for that. And is far is he is concerned I am still the same woman he found attractive enough to harass in an elevator, why would the pervert not want me touch him?

He is all swagger is he takes my hand, letting his own fingers study my knuckles is he understand the tug I give his hand and obligingly kneels down at my side instead of pulling me up. He does not bother even trying to hide the grin when I do not protest that his other hand finds a place on my knee.

His face stays remarkably steady when I put my my hands against his throat. He is well trained is an agent after all, but this close even I cannot miss the way his eyes dilate a bit at the edges.

The line of shit about his burned throat I only half expected to be true, turns out to be completely true. I can feel the inflammation in the lining of his esophagus, and the raw edges were fresh tissue has not fully succeeded in its attempts to replace dead cells.

It is an interesting spot for a burn, but well it is unusual wound it is still for from a difficult injury to treat. Even though I closed my eyes to concentrate I can still mark his surprise by the why his adam's apple bob's and my fingertips is the unfamiliar sensation of magick seeps into his skin, before he schools his body into stillness again without any need for a reminder.

It barely takes a few minutes for me to finish what a month's worth of healing has not done already, and once I am satisfied enough with my work to pull my hands back I cannot help but smirk at the way he starts clearing his throat and shaking his head.

"How does it feel now?" I ask after politely giving him time to reacquaint himself with his voice.

His chuckled response proves that even in the presence of his superior, he will always be himself. "Can we get some water in here? You sure do tickle Lady. You supposed to feel like that?"

And just like his reply, even if he does not realize it, my own is infallibly me. "J.A.R.V.I.S is no doubt already telling the staff, and you will get used to it" I tell him, leaving the interpretation open ended enough to keep his interest. "How did you get that burn anyways?"

The question and Councilman Pierce's pointed look are enough to make his hand abandon my knee and sparing a moment to rub his throat one more time, he take residence on the couch diagonal from us before answering. "Ended up fighting some of those Chitauri, and one force fed me my taser before my men killed it."

Given that I doubt Rumlow's pride would ever let him make up something that emasculating I am willing to accept that for truth is Councilman Pierce inserts him back into the conversation. "Alex was working with MI-6 take take down a gun runner with connections to the Ten Rings and somehow he was contracted out to Loki's service mid mission, where he found you. So when he sent us an extraction request, we sent in a STRIKE team..."

"...And you walked right into a trap." I say it like I am certain, but until he actually confirms it, it was just speculation. Duncan, _Alex,_ was under Loki's control at that time, and I did not know because he camouflaged his eyes to hide the glow. Loki probably did it to the rest of the mercenaries down there too just to be sure. He would not have let that fake escape attempt happen unless he was absolutely sure I would not get away. If he had any doubts he would have thought of a different method to wake up my magick.

"Yes. Our team wasn't prepared. We located Agent Pierce before we were attacked by Loki's men. We won of course, but it took too long. They all fought like they couldn't feel the pain, and by the time we defeated them he was gone." Supplies Rumlow, no doubt because he was part of the team that did the 'defeating'.

I am silent for a minute, tapping my knuckle to my lip is I process the unspoken details. They were in Carmel Indiana, and mentioned finding Alex, but made no mention of Clint. That means they were already on there way while I was being attacked by the Army in that parking lot, but actually arrived after Loki must have reclaimed Clint and I. "And when did you know I was there?"

Pierce answers that question. "Before the Palladium fell" Then his questioning expression matches mine before it transforms into realization. "You didn't know about that?"

My nods enough. "The bunker Loki was holding you in, it was beneath a theater complex. Loki collapsed the entire center on the Army and SWAT teams that attempted to apprehend him before we got there. We were able to track your movement using satellite imagery to the park near the local airport, but lost you after that."

I remember that theater. I remembering never wanting to see it again, and now I will not because apparently Loki, in a game he rigged so only he could win, turned it into rubble, and crushed dozens of people to death just so he could have the version of me he really wanted!

"You said you lost me after the park?" I force my thoughts away from Carmel Indiana is Rumlow nods to that, guilt and anger fall under things I do not have time for. "Then how did you find me in New york?"

"When we realized Agent Pierce wasn't accounted for we began watching any organizations he had history with, in case he went to them for help. We noticed unusual activity with the Russians in Hell's Kitchen, and after Banner realized Loki would need a reactor for his plans, it was the most likely destination."

"And you shot out the truck." It is not a question, and it is really only directed at half the room. "Yeah" Rumlow confirms without apology. "The Russians were tailing the truck, no doubt to hijack it at some point, so we intercepted it first. We knew you were an Asgardian ever since the New Mexico incident so we had no doubt you could survive a car accident, and you did..." He chuckles "...because you weren't with the bodies by the time we reached the ground."

I do not miss the way he guages my response after that mention of the dead, and the way he grins approvingly at the fact I do not pause at it. "When exactly did you find me?" I ask instead, because so far everything they have said matches up, but I do not intend to fill in the blanks for them.

"We didn't find you or Junior in the wreck, and by that point the Aliens were already invading, so the most likely spot was the park. It's about the safest place in the city if you're worried about being crushed by debris. After that it was a question of looking for defendable positions, and the zoo was one of the closest places with a building."

"Now this is where we need you to tell us what happened." Pierce asks is Rumlow quietly but clearly surrenders the lead. "Agent Barton and Dr Selvig were debriefed after the battle of New York, and their reports answered quite a few questions, but then Loki sent you on different routes, and the only other person we could ask is dead."

"Where would you like to start?" I ask, only vaguely realizing and caring I just repeated Pierce's own words verbatim from before.

"Where did you wake up at?" Asks Rumlow. "They said Loki had you drugged before they put you on the truck to New York."

"I woke up on the truck" I offer my tone half questioning is I think about the memory. I remember hearing the echo of Erik saying something. "The sedatives wore off, I think they were too weak, or Dr Selvig did something. All I know is they were trying to tie me back down when the truck started to roll."

"I was disoriented and hurt, but one of them was still alive, and before he could attack me I killed him." I stuck my fingers in his neck and absorbed the life still in him technically, but the point of this meeting is also to prove I am not some sort of biological weapon and telling them that might not be the best idea yet. "...Alex used that opportunity to sneak up behind me, and... the rag... the rag smelled like almonds, I think it was chloroform."

That gets what I would say is an impressed look from Rumlow, and it does not take me long to guess why. The first time I met Alexander, he stood up for a woman who was being harassed. When I met him again, he was is gentle is he could be with me well playing my guard. When he found me again, he only hurt me in defending himself, and that was after I tried to kill him, twice. He was not the kind of person to do things like that to women. "You said you found him and lost him in Indiana. I am why you found him like that. He was under Loki's control, and he tried to kill Clint. We were not on speaking terms."

"But Agent Rumlow..." Pierce indicates the STRIKE Captain with a nod "...said his team found you fighting the Chitauri side by side in central park zoo?"

"Yes" I admit with a rueful smile. "When I came to he had me tied up, and tried to talk to me, but I got loose and attacked him, again. It did not work in my favor. I was hurt, and there were aliens attacking the city, then they were attacking us."

I do not need to hear the 'why?' from either of them since I can see it. "The Chitauri have no association with Asgard. Loki made a deal with someone, and to make sure he accomplished his task, he was allowed to borrow the Chituari."

"So..." Rumlow starts, his hand absently rubbing his throat "Loki wanted you cause you're a healer, and his 'partner' you to keep Loki on a tight leash? That really all you have to tell us?"

The accusation makes me huff a little. "Are you really asking me if I knew in advance? You really asking if Loki was slipping me secrets well S.H.I.E.L.D kept me in their top secret fishbowl? If I was slipping him 'things' under your noses?" His smirk only confirms the real accusation in his silence, but I am not done. "You insult yourself for me, I am flattered."

"It is a concern..." Pierce puts in, assuming the tone and role of a referee before Rumlow shifts from growls to barred teeth. " ...that we have to address. Through your counselor, we do know that while you were stationed at P.E.G.A.S.U.S the content of your dreams became unusual, and you were prone to daydreams, and headaches. We suspected those were precursors to your memory returning, and in light of recents we need to know how much may have returned, and if it affected your loyalties?"

"I have surprisingly little loyalty to anything Asgardian Councilman." That informations delivered with a sour scowl. "They viewed me is more of a tool then S.H.I.E.L.D ever did, at least pretended to give me a choice."

He responds to that with a nod, but with no pretentious apologies. "So you had no contact with Loki prior to his arrival at your house?"

"No" I confirm, before I elaborate. "Not directly. There was one incident shortly before the kidnapping. I spoke to Dr Selvig, and then later in my quarters the temperature dropped inexplicably low and I swore I could feel a presence." _I mentioned it to Clint when I basically fled the room for the night so I know they have it on file._ "I think that is when Loki became aware of my presence and adapted me into his plans."

"We need to know about your history with him." I nod to that, a bit amused it took him so long to get to that question.

"Yes, of course. I will fill in whatever details you need, but it will take time. For now I can tell you I was his servant once, his physician." _And for a moment we were almost more than friends._ "Is there anything else you need right now?"

"Yes." Pierce says is he pulls several folders from the briefcase that Rumlow passes him. "These are the files you asked for, but we will also need to update your own. Until you finish submitting your report we can at least update your personal information. Can get your last name?"

The smile I give him is a little strained. "I thought we cutting the crap Councilman. You know the name conventions of my people. You do not need to know my last name Sir. My mother has never set foot on your planet, but rest assured I will introduce you if she ever does. Now I am tired and I think we are done."

There is argument in his eyes, but it is also followed by resignation and then a bit of surprise. Realizing he had overextend my patience, he choose to retreat so so he would still have a chance to return, but when he asked agent Rumlow to get the door, I asked agent Rumlow to stay.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

* * *

TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1142 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

RUMLOW

* * *

_She wants me to stay? Is she kidding?_ That was my first thought that was some sort of joke, because let's be real, it never mattered if she was pretty in a pantsuit or wearing blood in the park, she never even wanted anything to do with me, but now she is asking for a private audience.

I was waiting for the punchline, or someone to call bullshit. But then Pierce okayed it, Romanoff okayed it, and when the snack cart showed up the damn A.I even asked if there was any other refreshments we'd like so I finally stopped waiting for the surprise and realized this was it.

I told her I wasn't exactly here for the tea and crumpets, but she just tilted her head with a smirk and asked if I'd prefer sandwiches and coke. Okay I'll play. I got to admit, the confidence is kinda sexy on her.

"Huh, yeah. They're right,you're different. I like it" I admit with a chuckle after the crowd leaves, before my vague gesture at the couch turns into her silent permission for me to sit. "Thing is, I thought you didn't like me much. What gives?"

* * *

TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1142 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

"Nothing gives." I tell him after tilting my head with a huff, and letting my speech relax. "I don't like you much, you're right. That's why I think I could like you a little now."

I can see the question in his expression but I ignore it for a moment is I navigate past the IV attached to my skin, and attempt to pour myself some tea. A process I only make it half way through before he step in and finishes for me. I had the cup and saucer, and what appeared to an empanada with some plastic silverware all set up and then he claimed my teapot. The smirk on his face made me not argue the idea, he clearly found this little tea party just is amusing is I did.

"There's too much history" I tell him before I take a sip, and then set the tea back on the saucer I'm holding to cool a little. "Between me and almost everyone else here. Even with Pierce. It makes things complicated. With you it's very simple."

"Heh..." I fill the silence with another sip of my tea, not at all offended by the way the conservation tapered off, or the grin clinging to his expression. I've left him amused, confused, and more then likely intrigued. The taste of Darjeeling tea and strawberry rhubarb empanada's keep me content is I wait for him to finish his thoughts and words. "...Nice dress."

* * *

TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1143 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

RUMLOW

* * *

Nice shirt." she throws back, and I love the way she doesn't even miss a beat is she sits there like a lady with that damn tea cup in her hand. I knew this visit was gonna be fun, but I really wasn't expecting a private party to end up on the menu.

"Yeah..." I start is I let my eyes drift to the shirt in question is I let my fingers pull at the collar. "...boss said casual formal, whatever that means." before my eyes move back up to hers as I let those fingers slide down toward the top button. "Ya want it? I bet it would look great on you?"

* * *

 TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1143 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

 ARNORA

* * *

"The uncanny valley doesn't mean anything to you does it?" I ask is I put the cup and saucer back on the table, both of us knowing well enough that the question is rhetorical.

"Nah. Not really." He admits with an unabashed shake of his head and a laugh. "Not with you and yours at least. I mean sure, Thor..." The shift in his expression and tone reveals the envy before the words do "...can probably throw a small car if he felt like it. But anatomy 101..." the shift in his tone again and his traveling eyes, reveal just is much "...you people are shaped just like us, so how different can you really be where it counts?"

* * *

 TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1144 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

 RUMLOW

* * *

_Nothing. I just looked her over like a piece a meat, and I got nothing._ All the response she gives me is a soft smirk and the question "Are all your compliments so crass?" she's better at this then she should be, so what's it gonna take to find a crack?

* * *

 TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1144 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

 ARNORA

* * *

"Some of em," He submits before he taps his knuckles on his lips, then switches to elaborating after a gesture of his hand. "...probably most of em. It doesn't mean they're not honest."

"I came on to you in that elevator cause I think you're hot." He admits is his pointed finger stays far more stationary then his eyes again, or the knowing smirk "And you know I think you're hot or we wouldn't be playing like we are here." He leaves a brief pause there, but I don't bother filling it. Confirmation is unnecessary, and in all honesty, offering it would be insulting to both of us, were far smarter than to pretend it wasn't obvious "The shy secretary thing you had going back then didn't hurt either. Though now that I've seen what you can do, and you tickle my jollys in a whole different way."

"Come on Lady,..." he chuckles after all I give him is a raised eyebrow. "...claim it. By the looks of it you won playing 'defense' against a couple aliens with a branch and a trash can lid before we came to your rescue."

If his expression suggested he was impressed before when he emphasized the word defense, there's no doubt of it now. "That one we found with the tree growing in it, I know that was you. I don't get how you did it, don't much care. That's some impressive shit, even if its cheating."

_He finds it impressive, but he doesn't want the details? Hmm, I see..._ "Is it greed, or the idea of the challenge that makes power so enticing to you?"

* * *

 TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1145 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

 RUMLOW

* * *

"Bit off both." I confirm with a nod before I finally do more the just eyeballing those little bottles of diet coke and take one, cracking it and wetting my lips before I continue "I love being the biggest baddest in the room, sure..." then throwing a few of those finger sandwiches on a plate is well. This place is run be STARK Industries, I'm kinda curious what a five star version of those taste like. "...but if there's no one who can go toe to toe with me what's the point of working so hard?" turns out there pretty good.

"Mine frustrates you though." she states calmly after giving me the time to finish one, then elaborating is I arch a curious brow at her while I finish licking my fingers clean. "You called it cheating after all."

_Oh yeah, that_ "It is."I offer back with a sharp nod. I've spent most of my professional and unprofessional life learning how to fight and how to come out on top of a fight, against muscles, and response time. Against 'normal', not some sort of kung fu plant whisperer. Of course its cheating.

"It is if it's sparring." Even sitting here, talking to her and knowing she is different I think half my brain is still expecting that shy awkward little pacifist version of her, and then she throws out some 'all's fair in love and war' level shit, and it's great, because she's right. Rules and codes of conduct don't mean anything outside of a tournament. If you're really fighting, the goal is winning at any cost, fair is only something an idiot worries about, fair is something makes you lose.

"You're right." I confirm somewhat redundantly after my laugh dies into a soft chuckle. "You frustrate the shit of out of me just cause I got no idea how to fight something like you..." I continue with a shrug "short of through a scope at least." Before holding up my hands in a peaceful gesture. "But don't worry I still think you're hot though and I wouldn't mind using you."

* * *

 TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1146 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

 ARNORA

* * *

"Come on, not like that. If I mean potato I don't say patatoh." He doesn't miss the way I roll my eyes at that, the sloppy way he always manages to bring innuendo back into the conversation, and his weak attempt at whitewashing his subtext. "You know S.H.I.E.L.D's end game was alway making you a team player. Now I just really want you on my team. STRIKE does the really hard messy work. Were the 'bust down the bunker doors' kind of people, and you're at least semi freakishly strong, with the ability to control plants. Do you know how useful that would be against say 'an African warlord in the the jungle'?"

_Close your eyes. Count from ten. Breathe and clear your mind. You knew this disappointment was coming. Don't let it upset you so much._ It's all sound advice, and the practice that comes from centuries keeping myself in check. Doesn't mean it doesn't make my skin itch in angry disgust. "Thank you Agent Rumlow, I wasn't sure if you were really 'just' here is his security. Your sales pitch could use some work, but I think I'll have to decline. I'm not very interested in being becoming someone's weapon."

There's a little annoyance, but the smirk is he leans across the table also makes it just is clear he isn't done. "So I'm going to lose you at 'I want to recruit you' and not 'I wanna see in my clothes'? Really luv?"

* * *

 TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1147 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

 RUMLOW

* * *

I don't give a shit if she intends to answer or not, instead my attention shifts to the stack of folders in front of me, and sorting out the right one.

"This..." I hesitated is I leaf through the pictures. "is a Chitauri foot soldier. 'his'..." _I'm guessing on the gender cuase we really have no idea yet_ "...cause of death was the wooden spikes your club left in his stomach."

That picture slides across the table with a flick of my wrist "This..." and the next picture takes its place in my hand. "...one was missing its jaw and had its head bashed in." Then the process repeats itself "And this one drowned in the chunks of its own organs when its chest cavity was caved in. Let's not forget my favorite, death by reforestation. We don't want to make you a weapon gorgeous, you've been one for a while."

* * *

 TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1148 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

 ARNORA

* * *

He slides another folder halfway out of the pile. "We got records that put you on this planet is far back is the Viking age, so let's not pretend okay?" he pauses to fill the silence with the movement of his eyes and the falling gesture of his hand. "You were probably a pretty little foreign teenager then, who was dropped into a cultural that had no qualms with slavery, murder, raiding, or rape, and nothing in our files suggests you were anything less to them then a leader and a Goddess. The only way that happens, is if grown men pissed their pants at the thought of making you mad."

"You're a killer darling." He adds, his tone softening in contrast to the words hardening. "And rather you like it or not, it's still true. Now I get that HYDRA turned into some kind of meat grinder to keep their POW population under control, and that you spent three years thinking you couldn't even hurt a fly. I know that's going to change how you feel about it. But..." he gestures to the pictures from the park again. "...when push came to shove, you didn't hesitate to shove harder."

"So yes, 'I' want to recruit you. 'I' want you in STRIKE, and 'you' should think about it." This time the gesture is the room itself. "You got it nice here, but you're smart enough to know this is a cage, and it can't be a permanent one. Even Stark can't keep you here forever. Eventually someone's going to find that Disney princess crap about you and Captain America playing happy homemaker with your shelter puppy is a lie, and then you're not going to get to choose what cage you end up."

* * *

 TUESDAY, JUNE 5TH 2012

1149 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212 

* * *

RUMLOW

* * *

_She look way too confused? Oh they didn't tell her about that._ That's great, I just let the boyfriend out of the bag. It's too bad I can't stick around to see that conversation, not my priority now. I still got an agenda to sink.

"And you think I'd fit an a elite hit squad, you think the Council would let me?" she asks with an incredulous expression I can't blame her for at all.

"No, not right away." I agree. "It will take some work to get the Councils panties unbunched, and you'll have to get better and go through training." I nod at the pictures again. "You got the potential, but your techniques also seem pretty archaic. You let me and I can make it a lot better, but you gotta agree first."

"You know the Councils not just sit on their hands forever." Even with Pierce and Malick playing interference for our own agenda's the rest of the Council's still eying the red button option with an itchy trigger finger.

"I know it's not flowers and sunshine, but it's definitely an olive branch. You know we've done this sort of thing for people before and you know its made their lives better." Barton was on death row for triple homicide, and Romanoff was a burned Russian spy being hunted by everyone right down to her own people. "If you gotta be in a cage, choose the one 'he' helped build." bringing up the bosses dead sons a risk, but her face says I was right that it would be worth it. "We'll have your back. Jr. already proved that."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 6TH 2012

0756 HOURS

S.H.I.E.L.D HEADQUARTERS, THE TRISKELION

WASHINGTON D.C.

* * *

ALEXANDER PIERCE SR

* * *

"He's been asking to see you again" I inform the STRIKE captain as he steps into my office and lets his lieutenant guard the door, happy to take the drink off my hands as the office finishes securing itself.

"Yeah well Malick and his lab monkeys can keep waiting." Rumlow says with a shrug and a smirk as he all but throws himself casually into one of the arm chairs. "I'm in no hurry to get stabbed AGAIN for science. He wants to test my blood for some mojo, he can wait a little bit."

"You won't keep them waiting too much longer." The part where that's not a request isn't lost on him. While Malick and I share a difference of opinion on a great many things, we shared them on an equal number, and well an Asgardian isn't his prefered alien of choice, it's still an alien, and agent Rumlow was directly exposed to their technology.

I'm just as curious to see if our science division can develop anything useful after studying his bloodwork and tissue samples, that he will submit to immediately following this conversation. Especially given that my son's corpse was completely useless in that regard. We tested everything right down to his bone marrow, but if her 'magic' left any residual effects we could observe, it had long since dissipated by the time we got the body back into the lab.

I had always hoped that I could mold Alexander into something useful and loyal, but then when it became clear that loyalty wasn't something he would give us, I settled for his usefulness even if it had to be forced. That too ended up being temporary though, and even in the defiance that ended up with his death, he ultimately got his wish of giving HYDRA nothing of value. 30 years of work and nothing to show for it, such a disappointment. Maybe if he had actually been my son it might have worked out. "So what did you find out?"

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 6TH 2012

0757 HOURS

S.H.I.E.L.D HEADQUARTERS, THE TRISKELION

WASHINGTON D.C.

* * *

RUMLOW

* * *

"Well for starters..." I pause to finish the water, finding it amusing that it's all I can have until the test because some lab monkey doesn't want to corrupt the samples. I got better treatment in enemy territory, imagine that. "...you're right, he told her, but..." I add before the really nervous gears start turning "...I don't think he 'told' her."

"She knows something's up with Jr." When we found that rotting bastard slouched in the corner we knew we had to move quick. We knew we couldn't just make the body disappear, cause that would definitely raise a whole lot of red flags, particularly from her since she was inconveniently absent and we couldn't bag and tag her either thanks to 'boyfriend #1' throwing a fit.

So we went with option two, which was to carefully carve out the tech that wasn't supposed to exist in "boyfriend #2's' skull, in a way that didn't look like it was carved out. Not as hard as you think when we have a mild acidic gel that breaks down quickly when exposed to oxygen. Unless forensics is right there, they're not going find it. After cutting the implant out and melted his melon a little all that was left was burying that little love note under the growing pool off his blood.

"We had to adjust the crime scene a little." It was that or let Garrett's pet project get discovered and deal with the fallout of S.H.I.E.L.D realizing we had someone spying through their own spies. "It doesn't match her memory, but we don't gotta worry."

That gets his eyebrow to rise. "She hasn't said anything. We all know she's asked about your boy's funeral, and hell we even even left the file with her right there, but nobody's come asking." I was on the scene, if there were any questions about the validity of what we reported, S.H.I.E.L.D's uninformed ass would have brought them right to us first.

"She said she fucked up his face, so she's gotta know about the implant, and that it wasn't mentioned in the report. But I'll bet a bullet..." I punctuate those words with a nod, and an invitation, toward the one I know he keeps in his desk."...Right now, he never got around to telling her who his puppet master was. All she knows is there's a hidden player in the field, and she's gonna keep her mouth shut and play the long game just like us, until she figures out who her enemy is. I can use that."

The 'I' not the 'we' or the 'you' makes him smirk. "That's a very bold move..." is what I hear from his lip, and 'that's a very greedy move' is what I see from his eyes. "...inviting her into STRIKE without consulting us first."

I hold up my empty water glass more out of principle then an actual cheers "And I do appreciate you taking the credit for that." After the Council got all snappy about it until Pierce said the idea was his all along. "Bureaucracies not my thing. Besides, if we're putting a leash back on her we both know STRIKES the only place..."

The world knows about her enough to notice her absence, and the Avengers all know about her now so disappearing her into a lab or specimen jars wasn't an option on the table anymore. If we wanted to keep her we had to do it in some sort of active capacity. The makes STRIKE the best option, because it makes us the most qualified and equipped to take her down, training her ourselves makes it even better because then we learn her strengths and weaknesses."...and I've always wanted to own a big cat."

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

0759 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

MADILYNN SAUNDERS

* * *

Officially I was hired to assist Dr. Banner in treating her. I thought of it as a rare honor, not only because of being employed by Mr Stark as a medical consultant, which was all they told me at first, but also the chance to meet an Asgardian and Captain America. My childhood hero and crush.

That was the way my feelings remained at least until I found out she slapped him for his good intentions and after he was there for her when she woke from a nightmare the night after her guests left, and I had no patience for her the following morning.

Miss Romanoff was there with me, for my own protection along with the fact that we were the only two she'd allow in the room. That woman was still sitting in her bed in her nightgown, staring out the window when she spoke to me, or if I'm being generous about it, at me. She told me to tell Miss Romanoff (and myself) to go away. She wanted to be alone for the day.

I told her, after a moment's hesitation to check exactly how close Miss Romanoff was, that she had five minutes to get her ass up and get dressed, or breakfast was going to end up in those sheets with her because I was not paid to babysit a thousand year old brat.

I think I rather had everyone worried for my life at that moment, because as she turned an indecipherable expression on me I was vaguely aware the AI's voice speaking to me along side of Miss Natasha's, before the goddess in the bed breathed out a chuckle with a soft smirk and pushed back the covers agreeably.

She later asked me if it was bravery or stupidity that made me boss around a goddess. I told them it was more likely age as I laid out her breakfast on a table cloth instead of bed sheets. I was too old to put up with the bullshit and bad manners of youth. When she mentioned that her own years outnumbered the country that bore me I simply told her that if that was true, I had even less reason to put up with her bratty disposition, and if she killed me for that then at least my obituary would be very interesting.

She laughed a little at that, and if it wasn't for the flood of loneliness that invaded her eyes I might have found her display of humor genuine. After that she turned her attention back to her tea and said if 'I wanted' I could stay.

She left the choice up to me, both of us not drawing attention to the fact that I clearly reminded her of someone in that moment, and most like without meaning to, how very alone she was here. Surrounded by people, but never her people. Poor girl, this ancient divine being, whose really just a broken, confused girl. No wonder she liked my lack of reverence.

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

0801 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

"He's been asking to see..." I almost said 'you again' as I walked through the door, until I saw Arnora's silhouette mounding the blankets on her bed despite the dawn sun, and Madilynn motioning for silence with a different pile of sheets on the couch in front of her.

She hasn't been sleeping well, not ever since her meeting with Pierce and Rumlow. Not since those files with uncracked seals came into her possession. She won't talk about the nightmares, other to tell us not to tell Steve anything else about them. That doesn't mean there is any less self explanatory though. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what would make her mumble pleas for mercy in frightened German and waking up covered in sweat.

The dirty sheets make it looks like tonight was another one of those restless nights, and the bottle of melatonin pills I can see in Madilynn's pocket as she nods for me to meet her in the hall instead.

That's part of the reason I came to the room in the first place, aside from relying Steve's latest bout of begging to talk to her. Her sleep has been so irregular I've started checking before I let the kitchen know to cook her breakfast. It's inconvenient to cook a meal separate from everyone else's but it isn't like they aren't compensated well for their job here.

"He's asking to see her again." She asks rather rhetorically as she slows the door with her heel so it doesn't waking Arnora when it closes.

Then once that consideration is taken care of, the give no shit's 70 year old comes back out as she knocks the basket of sheets onto her hip. "I don't see how that's new. He's been begging to talk to her ever since he found out that deep fried attack dog wants to hump her leg. She doesn't care, she's still being stupid" I _t's got to be the Italian in her, that sass._

"That's an awfully brave thing to say about a Goddess." I offer, my smirk just as amused as it is a cautionary suggestion.

Her snort in response however makes it clear just how seriously she takes it. "You think being a God means you can't be stupid? Cronus ate a rock because he thought it was his son. Dumb ass didn't think about the fact that baby fat shouldn't break teeth!"

That might have gotten a laugh out of both of, if it wasn't for the sight of Banner's brisk steps carrying him around the corner, or the way his expression changed and then failed at casual when he saw us.

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

0802 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

"Miss...? Miss Arnora...?" The lack of a British accent threw me for a second as my mind clawed it's way back to some sense of consciousness. Then it only got more confusing when I realized that whatever voice that didn't belong to J.A.R.V.I.S belonged to body patiently waiting just outside my bedroom curtain.

Then the grogginess processed that I knew both the voice the body. It was Dr. Banner. My mind cleared even farther, and this time with speed as I realized something else. He was in here alone.

Last week I made a decision, and I gave him permission to do something he has been asking me to allow for a while. I only gave him one condition, his discretion. But now he is here, waking me up without Natasha or Madilynn to stand guard, looking apologetically sad, and I know exactly why. "You ran the tests, what did they say?"

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

0802 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

BRUCE

* * *

As frustrating as it was treating someone who refused modern medical practices I could understand her reasoning completely after what she went through in the pursuit of "modern medicine" once. That's why when she said I could take her blood, I knew something was wrong.

I also knew that it was probably something she already knew of, and that her concession was really just so I could confirm it for her.

I also told her that it would take me some time to finish my analysis. HYDRA, is ahead of the curve as they were in their day did not have the ability to study genetics at the time, and while S.H.I.E.L.D had data on the subject, J.A.R.V.I.S and STARK technology would be able to give us a deeper understanding. Then I found what she was waiting for me to find.

Natasha and Madilyn were in the hall when I hurried up there and I have no question they noticed my hesitation and nervousness at the sight of them. They did however respectively not push the subject when I told them I needed to see my patient, and I needed to see her alone. _So much for my skills at discretion, not that I can't trust their's._

"You know what they said..." I answer, trying to recall my best bedside manner even while knowing it will just manage sub-par. "You've known all week, ever since that night you woke up crying haven't you?"

"Yeah." she offers simply enough, as if that tug on her lips isn't painful to look at, and as if her sudden interest in the creases of her pillow is at all natural.

"Why now?" I gotta ask as I sit down on the edge of her bed, already knowing I have that permission before I ask. The question exists on a professional and personal level. My findings made my suspicion that she knew crystal clear.

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

0803 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

This time I give him the courtesy of looking at him. "I could have hid it longer, I know." If I'm going to trust him with this knowledge, if I'm going to accept that I need to trust him with this knowledge, that I need to trust him, I have to share everything. _If I don't..._ "It's just it's actually a relief, letting someone else know."

The chuckle that tacks it's way on the end of my sentence is infuriatingly pitiful, and as his expression in response to it but there's something else in their beside sympathy at a pathetic display.

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

0804 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

BRUCE

* * *

"It's not exactly common knowledge, but you do know that the Hulk is a product of my rage right?" She looks understandably perplexed over the way I would make such a sloppy change of the subject but eventually that confusion swirls with acceptance that there must be a point I'm steering toward, and with a tense nod she gives me permission to continue.

"My father was a very abusive, angry, and insane alcoholic..." It's not something I talked about much, even before everything. Even with Betty. She knew obviously, but I didn't want to burden her with my anger and issues.

"And eventually my mother paid the ultimate price for that because she loved me too much." That turned out to be one of the biggest mistakes of my life. It's all speculation at this point, but if I dealt with those issues sooner, if I dealt with them at all, I might never have met the 'other guy'

"I can understand why a mother might consider it better to spare their child from a father like that." Maybe if other people made other decisions, everything would be better, or maybe it doesn't matter. Either way, even indecision is a decision and with some things, not making a choice isn't an option either way. "Regardless of what you choose though, I want you to know that I will never do anything less than the best I can to help you, even though the baby is Loki's too."

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

0806 OURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

I knew it was coming, and I wasn't going to react, or that's the lie my brain tried to force feed my body right before the breath in my lungs hitched as painfully as if someone kicked me, just at the sound of that bastard's name. Everyone has been avoiding the subject of him, and I thought it was just a stupid consideration of them, I thought I was fine with it, but then he said it with such understanding, that it's actually really hard not to cry.

"He made me a promise..." I say instead in an effort to calm myself down, but even those words come out in an aggressive chuckle. "He always kept his promises to me."

"You will have other children." He gives me the time to continue instead of pointlessly vocalizing what the promise was. At this it was pretty clear I just wanted to finish divulging those details even if they came out delayed in comparison to my will. "I just can't imagine why he'd do it like this. Why he'd go through so much trouble, why he'd keep his word, and then leave me here knowing..."

This time though, the words stick the fears like glue. This ridiculous notion that saying it makes it real. This time he actually has to prompt me, his brave, stupid humanity actually making him think it's a good idea to take my hand and comfort me like I'm not dangerous."Knowing what Arnora?"

I hate his comfort but I honestly don't think I could say it without it. "...that if I choose the baby, I'm choosing to die."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

1143 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

Her silence is her inquiry, and I welcome it with a smirk felt beyond the darkness of my eye lids. A moment of appreciation and annoyance at how correctly she gauges my needs. That moment when what you want is the very thing you don't want to admit or hear that you want.

She's not going to tell me she knows, and I'm not going to tell her either. It's pointless, and neither of us want to uphold that pretense, we just want for me to find the strength for words again, because I _need_ them.

"I have... been here twice." Motherhood found me twice, once I sought it, and chose it, and once it just appeared and hooked my heart with its cries. My Kenna, my beautiful little head of curls and laughing green eyes, my beautiful little daughter made from my own flesh. My blonde Skari, my little blonde Northmen boy, who was mine by cruel circumstance more than conception, but who was no less mine for it. "And twice, I've been denied the chance to bury my own children." Given the 'choice' I can't see myself doing anything short of ripping the world apart to avoid it.

"You want to keep the baby." Want. I smirk at that, as if its that simple. I want to murder if it lets me keep this baby, I want to beg, bow, kill and conquer if it lets me keep this baby. I want to give up everything if it lets this baby live, and I know I will. I know, which is why this baby terrifies me so much. I've been so tired of life for so long, and now I want to live. I want to live to hold my baby, to see them speak and walk, and love and grow. I want them to live, and to make that happen I know I will see none of that, because the only way I can see that happening is if I cling to life just long enough to give it a chance, I'm choosing to die.

Loki left me here. He left me with access to half my magick, on a planet where my magick was already weaker to begin with. It doesn't even matter if I could consume entire fields and forests. I can only hold so much, and it will never be enough to let me deliver this child, the child of a Frost giant. Loki is a midget by Jotun standards, but it would be beyond naive of me to think the baby would be as well.

Jotun's average is 10 ft tall, though most grow taller. Even with mixed blood working to my advantage the child may grow up to be as tall as 8 or 9 feet, and will probably reach is much is 24 inches before it's ready to leave my womb. If the size doesn't kill me in my weakened condition, the cold will. Like any baby, as they mature they start practicing their skills. They kick and punch to test their limbs, they hiccup to practice breathing. Their bodies practice what they need to know to be master of their environments, and it's no different with Jotun babies.

We 'had' the knowledge to survive this once, all the half Jotuns in history right down to my grand Aunt is proof of that. We lost that knowledge though when we lost the war, when all but a few interracial marriages were outlawed. But it was lost long before my birth, banned and stricken from the texts to prevent any more half Jotuns from being born, long before my birth. I don't have the knowledge, the resources, or the ability to survive this, and I don't even have the option to go back to Asgard where they might, if I thought my grovelling might actually earn me some mercy from that monster.

I always wanted this chance again, but not like this. Why would Loki do this to me, why now after he put so much effort in reacquiring me, would he leave me here with my death growing inside me? It makes no sense.

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

1145 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

I almost considered calling her name, given that she drifted so deep into though she barely seemed aware that I sat down beside her, but in the end she gave me no need. "Yes, I 'want' to keep the baby."

"You know, no one would judge you if you don't." Those words make her give me a weakly sideways glance, and smile, which I openly admit I hate seeing. _She used to have such joy in that expression, it used to be real._

"It would be simpler..." she says after a moment, both of us aware my previous sentence really had nothing to do with the life growing in her womb. "So much simpler." She says each word slower as if the sounds are weighted down by the chuckle in her voice. "He's done so much to so many, what's one more crime?"

"I could say it." She pauses so long I know she's considering it. "No one would ever question it." The way she mumbles that sentence more for herself then me only confirms that. But then with the shift in tone for her next words I know they're spoke with decision and direction. "But I'm not him. For all my own crimes, somehow, a lie like that..."

Until now, even when she was speaking to me her eyes didn't really reach mine. Now they lift as she straightens, and lock very deliberately with mine. She's made her choice, and she wants it to be very clear, she needs it to be very clear between us, she needs that because she'll need my my support too. "It's not what you think, that's not how this happened."

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

1146 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

She's right that I could, maybe even that I should, and such a large part of me wished I would, but I can't. Once I say it, it's said. Even if I know that all his other crimes have already ruined him, its still a crime that ruins people. Even if I know that technically I could retract the words, once they're said, they're said. I could claim it was force, and manipulation. I could re-claim my innocence, at least in that. I could many things. But I'd be condemning just as much.

If I said Loki forced me, I'd be placing that lie on my child's head. He would have to carry that crown, to carry the knowledge that his father was the worst kind of monster. Even if I took the words back, all I'd be doing is turning those 'facts' into doubts. I'd be able to lift away completely. Loki would always be an animal, I would always be a victim, and my child would always be a sin. I can't do that to my child.

"Steve can't know." I tell her quickly, and then my words lose all speed. It hurts. I've been nothing but cold to him, because that is as much warmth as I can manage now. We used to be such good friends, and then the past came back, and brought everything with it. All those happy memories I had with him suddenly soured like rotten fruit. I hate the unfairness of it all, and and I hate the idea of hurting him more.

"At least not yet." As much as I never want to tell him, as much as I never want to see that realization cross his mind, and have to explain any of this to him, I know it's going to happen far too soon. It has to. But not now.

She doesn't fight me on it there's so little argument on her tongue and in her eyes that I'm almost certain she agrees with me. In fact after a second of thought I know she does. She knows Steve too. There's no question in her mind about him, just about someone else. "What about Clint?"

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

1147 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

She was so quick when it came to Steve, and now her silence makes her so hesitant when it comes to Clint. It makes it clear what her feelings are. She still cares.

"Clint can't know either." She says after a moment, then follows it with those words again. "Clint can't know" Only changing the end by leaving it an unspoken 'ever'.

"He left for you." I offer, both to inform her, and just as much to plead his case. He's not here to do it himself, the idiot, and this really is the first time he's come up in conversation.

"He left for himself." She offers back, her words hollow despite the furrow of pain that settles in her brow. "He left because all I am now is the face of his guilt. He needs this. I won't take it from him." She pauses with a far too heavy breath. "He can't come back."

_He left for himself. All I am now is the face of his guilt._ Her words. _She's a mom Nat. I'm an 'uncle', 'uncle' to a goddess, imagine that? I'm gonna find that kid, I promised her. I'm gonna find her daughter, or whatever is left._ His words. _I have... been here twice and twice, I've been denied the chance to bury my own children._ Her words. Her declaration of how his hunt will end.

My words. "He left to look for your dead daughter." I'm not going to argue that Clint's got a lot of things to work through and she's right that he shouldn't be here when most of them are her. But at the same time, if what she says is true, at a certain point I'm going to be his advocate.

"I know." she speaks with a shimmer forming in her eyes. "You'll tell him eventually. I won't stop you. But don't tell him now please. You know he'll never accept it. he needs to do this." Her words.

Her real words. _Don't tell him please!_ Ones spoken in silence, ones spoken in fear and begging necessity. _Don't let him come back and change my mind!_

It's been more than a month but it was also almost three years. Clint was the one who 'found' her body in the wreckage. Clint was the one who 'saved' her. That was our lie, but these are her truths. Clint was the one who calmed her. When she first woke up, terrified and confined, it was Clint who comforted her. It was Clint who befriended her. It was Clint who watched out for her. It was Clint who became her first human connection in our world. It was Clint who became her hero, her brother, her family more then me or any of us.

It was Clint who made her who she was then, and who she was now. Even though he was brainwashed. Even though he attacked her and hurt her. Even though he helped hold her prisoner. She fought for him, and almost sacrificed her life for his. Even when he was her enemy, even when she knew he lied to her and was betraying her the entire time she knew him, she valued him more than her own life.

As much as she is right to treat us coldly, to hate us and keep us at arm's length she's right. He can't come back.

She wants to keep the baby. Who am I to take that choice from her? The chance to be a mother, when such a large part of me envies her for having that choice.

Clint deserves to know, but if I told Clint now... she's right. He'd turn right back around, and nothing we ever said would make him see this child's conception is anything short of a rape. _For all of Clint's good intentions, for all of our efforts to protect her right is a mother to choose..._

If he was still here, She wouldn't refuse to see him. Not like she is with Steve. She wouldn't be able to keep it up. He'd wear down her walls just being her 'brother'. He'd talk her out of having the baby, and then when it was too late for second chances, neither of them would ever forgive themselves for it.

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

1149 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

They're all so very afraid to touch me, as they should be. But the truth is to that I'm just afraid to let them. I know I can, I know I might, I know I will, but I don't want to hurt them. I'm sure she knows it too and yet that doesn't stop her.

Not even the way I pull back stops her as she thumbs away my tears and pulls me into a hug. She doesn't say she understands. She only says "its okay. I'll keep your secrets" and I can't keep the laugh in when she add "This is going to be really hard, you know that right?" And lets me bury my face in her shoulder. It's actually nice.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

2231 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

The eggshell paint glows golden where the firelight finds it. _It's lovely, this is lovely this is all I really ever wanted. This, and him._

He promised me a house. Something with three bedrooms, so we could all have our own. Something with a an extra bathroom just for me, because I'm a lady and I deserve it. Something with a dining room, a living, and a kitchen that were all separate, and a breakfast nook cause he was sure I'd like that so much. Something with a garden in the back, fresh paint, wood shutters and window boxes. He promised me all these things, even though he admitted he didn't know how he'd get them yet, he swore he would.

He even said he'd get me furs, the precious fool, because he thinks I'd like them better, being a goddess. He doesn't even believe that, that I'm so much older and different then him. He just thinks they've said it so much, I started to believe their insanity too.

Anything he thinks will make me happy, he wants to give me, and I don't have the heart to take that from him. Wanting to make me happy makes him happy, there's nothing wrong with that. But this is enough. This is lovely. This is all I ever wanted.

I don't care that his three bedroom home with a living room, kitchen, dining room is a three room tenement apartment. I don't care that kitchen is the dining room, and the breakfast nook, and the laundry room. I don't care that the separate bathrooms are really just the metal tub in the kitchen with a board over top of it. I don't care that the fireplace is really the wood stove with its door left open. I don't care that my separate room is really just a set of threadbare tarps he stole from the trash, hung up around my rickety bed. I don't care that our one good chair is so worn that the filling and springs are showing in places, and one of its legs has been replaced by a bucket because we had to burn the magazines for heat. And I really don't care that the third rooms really just big enough to hold the toilet.

None of that matters to me, because this is a palace, this is wonderful, this freedom, and this isn't 'there'. It's not the cages, the glass walls, the needles, and knives, and the pain. It's a tenement in Brooklyn with the man 'I' fell in love with, and I don't think I could ever have better, because this, is meager is it is, was mine to choose.

We're sitting on the 'rug' in the kitchen, but because it's only paint on the floor were also sitting on his woolen blanket. One of the many items he 'forgot' to turn in when he left the army behind him. He has the wall of the tub at his back, and one of the pillows there for cushion, while we wait. Him content to run his fingers through my hair and watch the logs crackle past the open oven door, and me content to snuggle in his lap and just listen to him breath.

This is wonderful. This is mine. This is all I ever really wanted even if he wanted so much more for me. And this is a dream.

I know this is a dream. This tenements not real. I know in some distant part of my mind that my consciousness modeled this place after the pictures in Captain America's biography. I know that the Steve in this dream, huddled under twice as many blankets is we have on our bed, while we boil water for our dinner, isn't really here. I know that I'm not really here, and I know that he not really here. James is dead, he died when he fell of a train 70 years ago. He died alone, and cold, and bleeding. But the pain of that doesn't really reach me here, because I can feel him so clearly here, it makes me willing to forget.

I can feel his heartbeat, and the pressure of his chest against my back with each breath he takes. I can feel the contrast of his clothes, were the cotton of his shirt differs from the straps and buckles of his suspender, and the hems and buttons. I can feel where he unbuttoned a few at the top after he took of his tie, and the fabrics folded over on itself to reveal his skin, and the sleeveless shirt underneath.

This close I can even smell him. Every breath he takes, the scent of tobacco grows a little stronger then the scent clinging to his close. I can smell his sweat too, that from the long days work, and the small fire in front of us. I can smell the oil and grease lingering in his skin even though he always scrubs it away when he comes back, afraid he'll get it on my clothes, is if I care. I can smell the product he always puts in his hair, ridiculous man that he is, because 'a beautiful dame deserves a well groomed man'.

"I miss you." I can feel him chuckle softly before he shifts, and presses a kiss to the top of my hair. He always said he couldn't wait to see me with hair, he knew it would be beautiful, and 'here' he never stops reminding me of that with his words and actions.

"I know you do Doll. I but I'm always going to be here for you." Its sentence like that which make me wonder if the dream even knows that he's dead too. "And when I'm not..." I can feel him nod his head in the direction of the other room. "...you have Steve. He's an idiot, but he's trying. He just doesn't understand."

Steve's small in these dreams. Steve's sick, and skinny in this dreams, and stubborn, and sweet. Steve's so much easier to forgive in this dreams because he isn't Steve. Or at least half of me feels like it should be easier to forgive. "I know." That 'Steve' was supposed to be part of this, part of us. Not romantically, just part of us, part of the promise. The three of us, damn the rest of the world, we'd take care of each-other. I wanted that so much, once. I want it still, that's why it hurts. Everything changed, everything got ruined, and it all goes back to him.

" Don't hate him?" Its red beyond my eyelids. He knows, I know he knows. He understands, because he's not real, he's just his memory in my mind, he's just the part of me that wishes.

"I'm trying." _I'm trying._ A promise forgotten, a feeling not forgotten even when it was. A promise remembered, a promise betrayed. _How did it all go so wrong, how did it get so twisted? All my feelings and good intentions? I used to be kind, but now all I feel like is thorns and broken glass. Now that's the best I can offer._

The glow is changing. It always does at some point. I closed my eyes and let the Red in. I let him in. not the walls don't glow like golden where the firelight touches it, they glow Crimson. It will all glow Crimson soon, even the shadows. "I'm trying. I'll try. Don't go? Don't leave me?"

He always kisses me and holds me so much tighter, is if that ever stopped anything. "shh,..." is if that ever made any of us less helpless. "I'm here, I'll be here. I'll always save you. I promise."

The Red gives way to a gasp, and someone else's pinked skin. "I'm sorry Maddie."

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13TH 2012

2235 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

MADILYNN (MADDIE)

* * *

She sat there for a moment, her chest still heaving from shed tears, and confusion. She looked at the back of her hand like it held some kind of mystery, and then shame made her turn away from the sight of my cheek. "I'm sorry Maddie"

"Don't be stupid child." We both know she just slapped me, her strike hard enough to send me staggering back a few feet. We also both know however that she didn't strike me out of malice. "That's not something you apologize for." Not with eyes like that.

_It's going to be another long sleepless night, poor girl even made it a half hour._ "I'll get the tea ready."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

* * *

 WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1128 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

 STEVE

* * *

It has to be her age. I know I’m actually older then her by about two decades but, I think it has to be her age that makes her so relatable.

Miss Saunders or Miss 'Maddie', as she has started insisting on is currently behind the end of a threateningly wielded spoon in the kitchen with me. Though its actually more appropriate to say I'm in the kitchen with her since she came and asked for someone to help her cook. And then told everyone else to 'make themselves busy, because she had a patriotic idiot to wrangle and she didn’t need eight hands on the pot'.

So that’s how I found myself alone in the kitchen with an English herbalist, making a tiramisu the same way her Italian 'Nonna' did. She walked me through the proper way to prepare and pronounce the zabaglione well we waited for the espresso to cool. She even went is far as making me wear her 'red hot grandma' apron, which I think was just to see me in it, and because she could.

“Is it thick enough?” I ask as I tilt the double boiler in her direction without taking it off the stove top, letting her eye the pre-boiling bubbles for a moment before she gives it her nod of approval. She shifts to the side to give me a little more room to work, then tells me to pour it slowly into the bowl of creamed marscapone so she can mix it. After I empty the bowl I start dunking the lady fingers in the coffee and putting the first layer in the cake pan for her.

“Now, as I was saying...” She starts, her eyes focused on me despite the fact that she is mixing something. “ ...I’m a medical professional, and I have every respect for confidentiality. 'But' I'm not her doctor, and she's starting to really worry me.”

After she declared me an idiot in need of wrangling, and chased the others off she told me Nora... _Arnora_ , hadn’t been sleeping well lately, or really at all. “I understand that she's got something against you, it's big and mysterious, and its her right to have it. But, they're getting worse...” She also told me that Arnora was having nightmares, and that after the last one, when she opened the locked metal box to make her some tea to help her sleep she found ashes instead of tea leaves. Her magick affected the leaves through the metal, which we all thought was impossible. “...Your name is one of the ones she cries out for the most, so your going to stop being a gentleman and start ignoring her damn wishes.”

The protest is there, both because its a natural response from me, and genuine one. I don’t really want to push her yet but 'Maddie' pretty much shoots those word right in their figurative face. “You punched Hitler and defeated an army, so man up son. Now finish laying those cookies and spreading the filling. Do it twice and cover it with the powdered cocoa. Then put it in the fridge. You're welcome. I just gave you 3 or 4 hours to figure out how to talk to a woman.” _And I suddenly understand why she recommended this recipe instead of my suggestion._

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1530 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

She didn’t turn around and she barely said anything when I came in. She didn’t have to. The way her head tilted forward and her breath left her was all I needed to know she knew who walked through the door. In all honesty, I almost wish she hadn't said anything. Her 'Hello Steve' sounded more like an obligation then a greeting, and that hurt a lot.

Still, I take that greeting as a good thing, and venture a little farther into the room despite my uncertainty. I wish I knew where I stood with her but I’ve learned not to assume. “I hope I’m not bothering you, but the door wasn’t loc....”

“It's your birthday Steve.” _How does she do that?_ It's my birthday? A sentence like that should make me happy, it should feel good, knowing that despite everything she remembered that, that she thought about it, about me. Instead I hate it. The sight of her back and the hollowness of those words, its like she's checking off a requirement to something. Like she didn’t tell Jarvis to bar my entry, not because she wanted to see me, because some sense of pity made her decide to be nice to me, just today. _God, I just wanted to see her, but this might be worse._

Burying those feelings I make myself focus on being objective. I did come here with a purpose after all, so after skirting around the side of the coach and setting down the cake on the pine coffee table, I finally put both of us in each others line of sight.

She looks fine. She's got color in her cheeks, her skin looks fresh, her hair is clean and combed, and even her eyes though neutral in their expression, have a brightness to them. That, along with the rest seem to contradict miss Saunders claims she hasn’t been sleeping. “You made a cake?”

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1530 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA 

* * *

The question seems to snap him out of his examination, because for about a second and a half he looks rather dumbstruck, right before the blush takes over and his awkwardness settles in. “Uhm, yeah. It's a tiramisu. I hope its okay. I've never made one before, but miss Saunders helped.”

_Maddie, of course she did._ I'm as unsurprised as I am unperturbed by that. She gave him the excuse he needed to come see me, with food. I can't be mad about that, not really, when I did much the same thing when I wasn’t myself. 'Nora' had such a hard time bonding with people, being forced to minimize one of humankind’s most basic connections. But that was okay, because she overcame it by emphasizing another. She couldn’t show her affection with touch, so she showed her feelings with food. “I’m sure it will be delicious.”

_It feels like being stabbed._ Six words, and the joy they put in his eyes hurts. That’s my fault though, so I accept that pain. I've caused him just as much after all. I pushed away to spare myself my own pain and anguish, and I caused him just as much, all for a failed attempt. Sending him away to stop my pain just made another kind of pain.

I was kind once, then that kindness was frozen and carved out of me. I made peace with change once, and I embraced that cruelty, but then I forgot, and I became kind again. Having that kindness back just makes me feel the pain of its loss all over again. _I never wanted to be cruel._

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1531 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

She didn’t say she wanted some specifically, but in the spirit of hopefulness I took her 'I’m sure it will be delicious' is a request, and made quick work of cutting her a slice. I know it's just cake, but it's also her approval and acceptance, no matter how small it is. “We made it from scratch and it might not be your German choc....” Its also the feel of her hand trembling though the plate into mine so hard the silverware clinks.

She left me holding the weight of the plate, and my sense of shame before I put one of those back on the table. I was so happy with that ounce of progress, that I didn’t even think about. _I know._ There’s not a lot to know because a lot of it got destroyed or lost, but I know and I should have known better. Of course that word would bother her, of course mentioning Germany would make her think of them. “I'm...”

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1532 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

“Don't.” His desire to apologize is automatic, but so is my wish not to hear it. Its not that I don’t want or appreciate the sentiment. Its just impractical to let him apologize for that. Its a word, its a country on this planet. No matter how much that bothers me, I’m going to hear it again. Thinking it might be otherwise or expecting people to apologize every time would be foolish.

I think he understands that too, given that he doesn’t waste words asking if it was something he said. His silence just proves all the more that he knows, or he thinks that he knows. “Is there something I can do?” He asks instead.

That question is innocent, and yet it makes me so mad. That anger is old though, its unfair, and its what I promised a ghost in a fantasy that I’d overcome. But its anger that’s still there. “No.”

“Can there be something I can do?” He's so eager to make this right, the bastard. He's so unaware what that does to me.

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1532 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

_No._ I can see her, even though she's still right in front of me, I can see her leaving. I can see her pulling back, shutting me out, pushing me away again. “ I'm just a little tired.” She offers or lies, as she shifts her weight to her feet and carefully maneuvers it around me, confident that I’m too respectful to physically stop her. “You should probably go now.”

Her confidence would have been right before, all those months ago when we still knew each other. “Nora, no please don’t push me away.” Now my desperation makes her misjudge me. “You knew I’d be coming! You changed the clearance so I could even walk in the room, and you didn’t kick me out or call the others to do it for you.” If I have to beg just to be with my friend, one of the only real ones I have left, I’m going do it. “You wanted me to come, you wanted to talk, you even tried so don't give up just because I made one mistake...”

I surprised her a little when I actually moved to block her path, and that gave me enough time to get those words out, but then even my unusual behavior burned through all the seconds it could buy me. She just shook her head and told me to “Shut up Steve, please just shut up.” With eyes that couldn’t even bear to look at me as she all but shouldered past.

She made it a few feet, clearing the couch and almost passing the archway into her bedroom, but that was only because I took a second to purse my lips and master my annoyance before I went after her. “No. Nora, please don’t....” I only took a few steps to bring me back to her side.

It only took my right hand caging her opposite wrist to get her to stop, only took that much to bring her back to me, with all the fury I wasn’t expecting. “I'M NOT HER DAMMIT!”

The second my finger wrapped around her left wrist, she ripped it away. They didn’t even have time to finish tightening around her skin before she spun on me and practically snarled her anger, but is much is I’m trying to be nice she isn’t the only one whose had enough. “I DON'T CARE!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES FOR THE READERS:  
> Apologies for my long absence, but I am back. I lost my main character, and I had to go get her back. Rest assured though, she is currently back in her little corner, behind few padlocks and some chains. So unless Arnora is much more clever or determined then I think she is, we should be back to our regularly scheduled updates. 
> 
> Sort of. 
> 
> I'm no longer going to be doing the photo albums, because is far is I can tell no-one looks at them.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.

 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1533 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

“Captain Rogers, Miss Arnora.” Comes the voice of J.A.R.V.I.S from above us. “I have altered security, and any further escalations will require me to enlist their services.”

“...” My words started, or tried to before her own silenced them with their delivery. “It's all right J.A.R.V.I.S, I will behave.” She looked and sounded so defeated saying that, standing there and lightly wringing the wrist I had grabbed.

“N...” I start, and immediately correct the name I almost use. “Arnora. I'm sorry.” The guilt is heavy. Two sentences delivered in raised voices, and we almost had a tactical security team called in to deal with her, to punish her. To remind her how caged she is here no matter what we tell her. That’s not what I wanted to do at all. But then I remind myself of what I really want, what I still want. “No. Actually, I'm not sorry.”

“Noreen Conway. Alice Hudgens. Nora Elaine. You told me about them remember? The other 'you's' that you used to be. They all got to know you as other people, and you never hated them for it.” I gesture vaguely toward the people beyond her door. “You don’t hate them for it now either, even though you know ALL OF IT was a lie! Everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D lied to you about your entire life, but you hate me, someone who didn’t! Why? What did I do that is so, much, worse, then that?”

* * *

WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1554 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

_That’s what he thinks?_ He thinks I have no problems with them, because I’ve let them near me. _How nice that would be, if it were true._ I do hate them though. I hate Natasha, for the years she used my emotional investment as a tool. I hate Clint, who isn’t even here now, for the years he pretended he was more then my executioner hiding his axe. I hate him for being that, and then saving me anyways, for making it all so confusing. I hate Bruce too, for his gentleness, and brutality. I hate him for making me thank him for my broken bones, a small confusing price paid to keep the planet free. I even hate Maddie a little, for how much her 'secret' reminds me of someone I used to be. “It's not just you.”

“But you hate me more!” He says with a bit of heat as he reaches for me, and makes me put pain in his eyes when I step back out of his reach. _I cause him pain even when I’m trying not to cause him pain._

* * *

 WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1555 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE 

* * *

She can't be touched. She can be touched. She can't be touched, again. She turns on me snapping and barring her teeth, she flinches back and shields herself. She pulls away from my touch, like my hands are something foul or frightening. _She wanted this, I wanted this with her, for her. To be able to touch people. It was supposed to be something good. How is it that everything she wanted ended up so twisted when she got it?_ "Nora please. What can I do to fix this?”

“Have you considered being less perfect?” She says it with sarcasm and a chuckle, as if that hides the fact that she closes her eyes to trap the tears that try to follow the ones on her checks.

I have her by the shoulder before she can finish turning away, before she can run again. I can feel her there under my hand. I can feel the solidness of bone and flesh through the cloth of her robe. I can feel the warmth radiating through it, and the weight of her breath in her chest. I can feel her absence of resistance, and my lack of enjoyment in that's. _It's not acceptance, it's submission._ “Nora I’ve given you months. Please? What does that even mean? How is that even fair?”

“It isn’t.” The only sign of the sob is the silent hitch in her breath, followed by the painful imitation of laughter in her voice. “You think I don’t know that it isn’t?” She asks or admits as she forces her glistening eyes back to mine. “I hate that it isn’t, but it doesn’t change that I feel this way.”

“You hate...” There’s a lot of English words in those sentence, but it still takes my brain to translate something out of those broken concepts.”...that you hate me?”

She sniffs a little before she utters a “Yes.” beyond her tight smile, nodding a few times before she stills her head with her knuckles pressed against her lips. “Yes. I hate that I hate you.” She offers as she switches to pressing her fingers flat to her lips, before she lets her hands drop to her sides and turns her eyes just to the side of me. “I hate that I can't stop hating you. But I hated you for so long, and you...”

* * *

 WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1556 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

My knuckles crack as I close my eyes and count my breaths back into a calmer state. “God I hate this, all of this. I only thought I’d want these memories back, but they're all so much worse then I thought they would be.”

“Nora...” His other hand finds a place on my opposite shoulder, his feet carrying him a step closer for this half embrace. “I understand that you've been through a ...”

“Don’t.” You'd think I slapped him given the pain I see dance across his eyes as I refuse his apology. “I beg you, don't. You made a choice and you slept. You lost time, and people, but you made a choice Steve. I wasn’t allowed to choose. My life, my past, even my flesh was stolen from me on an operating table! Our losses are similar, but not the same, and if you say you understand I might hurt you.”

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” He sounds so confident. I don’t know if that’s confidence in our friendship or confidence in his strength, but it doesn’t matter because he's so wrong about that.

“You know I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” I correct as I force a soft apology to stretch my lips. “But what I 'want' doesn’t mean much, anymore.” It's been getting worse since Loki’s absence. I didn’t notice it at first, but it feels like static leeching out of my skin, sparking like electricity across loose circuits, and its worse when I’m upset. _I'm so upset lately._

Vanir magick has always been a little dangerous, as connected as it is to our emotions. Its why we must master ourselves as children, its why I’m frightened of them, for them. I mastered myself once too, but I can't reach that place anymore. “I'm losing control of my magick.” _I don’t want to hurt them, not Natasha, not Steve, not any of them._

* * *

 WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1557 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

_I might hurt you, I wouldn’t want to, what I want doesn’t matter, I’m losing control._ My eyes and thoughts instantly drift to the container of what used to be her tea, before the latter drifts further back. She was furious, down there in the basement when she woke up, and what she put her hands on changed violently. I made her angry, and she pulled away like I burned her, or like she might burn me. She says she's losing control. Is she trying to protect us? Is that what this distance and cold hostility is? Keeping us out of reach to keep us safe?

“I didn’t mean to do that.” She answers somewhere between guilt and shame after seeing where my eyes traveled. “I can't effect synthetic materials or minerals, but sometimes I can effect through them. It's just much harder without touch. It takes so much more energy and concentration, it's easier if I’m upset, it just....happens, but it's still so exhausting.”

We replaced her sheets, her clothes, traded the cottons and linens for polyesters. We coated her walls and floors. We changed the doors, and curtains. We even replaced the plants with plastic imitations of the real ones, all to contain her, and she never once said anything. She could have protested, she could of told us we were idiots wasting our time, mocked us for our futile attempts. Maybe she didn't because she was just bidding her time, waiting for something. But she could have escaped, she could have walked outside instead of just stare at it wistfully through the glass. “Why?”

I didn’t add the 'pretend' after that why, I didn’t ask why she stayed, but she heard those questions anyways. “It made everyone feel safe, letting you believe you knew what my weakness was.” She chose to suffer silently to make us more comfortable? “Thank you for not using the other one.” She endured our efforts so we wouldn’t resort to more aggressive methods? _Did she really think we'd do that? Did she really think we'd use nerve agents on her like THEY did? That I’d allow that?!_

“I know you know.” She says sadly before I can voice anything past my frustration. “I know you deliberately try to not remind me. That’s sweet, really, but you have to. Those reminders visit me every night.”  _Oh god, I hate that. S_ he's the picture of calm, even is she admits to nightmares that have been stealing her sleep.

“What happened to you? Who made you this way? What didn’t I do for you?”

* * *

 WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1558 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

_That’s a lot of who's and what's._ Even finding my hands terribly fascinating as I sit back down, it takes me a moment to find the resolve to speak. I agreed to this, unspoken or not, and I owe him this, I owe him all of this story.

“I was born into the middle class. My mother came from a merchant family, and my father was an entertainer. They owned a tea house, we lived above it, and I inherited my family’s magick. My grand aunt, on my father's side is Eir, She's the greatest natural born healer Asgard has had in ages, and I was the first in two generations to inherit that magick. I was being groomed to take her place as the Royal Physician.

“I also served in Asgard's royal court, to learn the skills I would need beyond the healing arts. I was a hand maiden to the Vanir princess, my people's princess. Freya. She was a fucking bitch.” I huff a little, my mood souring at the memories despite my amusement. “She hated me, hated my family because her father took another of my great aunts, Skadi, as his wife and her step mother."

“She had plans for me, very cruel plans. she knew I was engaged to an Einharjar.” Realizing he doesn’t know that term I elaborate. “A soldier, a lieutenant in the Royal Guard. We married later. She wanted to ruin my reputation, to bring shame on me and my family. Loki found out, and made me his servant instead. The authority of a ruling Prince rescuing me from a dethroned Princess.”

“I’d met Loki before. First by accident, then by intention. He found something about me intriguing, and he'd often steal me away, as a servant, from her service for his purposes. Those moments were innocent, done often just for the humor of spiting Freya, and reminding her of her place beneath him and his family. Things started to change between us though when I became his servant officially. His intrigue slowly transforming into infatuation."

His hatred of Loki’s name on my lips is palpable despite Steve's best efforts, and that makes me sorry for this. “He was good to me, kind, and gentle, the Loki I knew when we were young together." _I wish I knew what changed, what caused such transformation in my absence._ "He treated me more like a friend then one should a servant, even a bit like an equal. He gave me opportunities and honors that would have otherwise been denied me based on my gender and status in society. It was a little bit intoxicating, addictive. He saw me in a way no one else seemed to, understood and respected me in ways no else did. Not even my husband.”

“That was the biggest struggle between us. Loki wanted me to be his, and I won't deny...” I won't lie, even to spare Steve's feeling. This is my history and its gonna be honest. “A small part of me wanted him to be mine. But I was so bound to the idea of honor and duty. I had to be the great healer the kingdom expected me to be, I had to the dutiful daughter my family expected me to be, I had to be the honorable wife to the man I promised myself to. I couldn't just turn away for from my obligations for something is little is my feelings. I told myself, deceived myself that we be couldn't together, a prince and his servant, that no matter what we felt, no matter how he elevated me, we were too far apart. I could never be anything more then a mistress to him, a dishonorable act dressed in honors clothes."

_I wish I had chosen him. Chosen what I really wanted. Everything might have been different._ “I married my betrothed. I thought things would be better when I was finally wed, when my union to another was fixed. I really believed it would conquer our infatuations, and in a way it did. It even became easier when Loki was betrothed to another, a princess, a woman actually worthy of his status. I bore Sigyn no ill will, even when I became her servant. She was family, no matter how distantly, and not at all like her mother.”

“Then I met my one true love...” _God I miss her so, God why would he speak such lies, telling me that she lived, that she was his...?_ “...when I gave birth to her. A beautiful baby girl with brown curls and green eyes. Kenna Arnorasdottir, fathered by Randulfr Havardrsson. Her name means knowledge, and I choose it in the spirit of hope. My most cherished possession. One I might still have if she was born to another man.”

“I was a loyal servant to Loki, and I kept a secret for him once. A secret that came back to punish me, to poison my child in her crib. I was a teenage mother...” I say after I wrestle the heartache and tears back. “...who could feel my dying child clinging to life in my arms, and I let desperation drive me to the one thing I shouldn’t. Necromancy is forbidden in most of the civilized worlds... even more so for those who bear the title of healer.”

He chokes a little on the concept of that word, his eyes asking the question that his throat can't. “I don't know if I could with what skills and knowledge I had, or if it was even possible. But we, on Asgard, we can artificially grow life. I create two new species with Loki, and he a another alone. For my daughter, my child, my first born, I was determined to try anything. If she was more then just my daughter I might not have been alone in that intent.”

“I was caught. I'd broken into Loki’s private study. I'd been looking for him but he wasn’t there, so I looked for his books instead. I thought I might find something in our research that could save her. He returned, he thought I was a thief and called the guards before he realized it was me but it was already to late. The guards alerted the king, and Loki's commands for my release were crushed by the weight of his fathers.”

“They took her from me, they wrestled her out of my arms and threw me in a cage. If she'd been half Loki’s they would have cared about her as much as I did. But she was only half mine, half a man's with no magick. She had no worth to them until she could prove it, and she never had a chance to prove it. They told me I could always have more children.”

“I hated Loki for it. I blamed my daughter's death on him. I knew what killed her. I could feel its magick on her skin, the same magick I once felt trying to choke the life out of me! He told me he would handle that creature, not to worry about it, to do as he said and remain silent, so I did, and my daughter died!”

“I hated Loki, but I found I hated his father more. Odin, the all-father. Our wise and benevolent king. That withering piece of shit in his chair! My daughter had no value to him. He was more concerned with protecting his family’s reputation, from keeping Loki’s foolish associations a secret, but I had some value to him, the promised healer to the kingdom that I was. All I had to do to avoid banishment was give up my love and memory of my child. He actually thought that was generous!”

I can see him processing that, part in confusion, part in outrage, and part in horror at his speculations on what come next. “But what about Th...” and before that name can draw out my anger I answer the unfinished question.

“He stood with his father, his king, where all the good loyal soldiers of Asgard stood while I stood alone.”

* * *

 WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1602 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

_She stood alone.._ I heard the hardness in the way she said warrior and loyal, the anger and pain, the betrayal, but I only understood it when she said alone. She said her husband was a soldier, a warrior, but he wasn't at her side, he didn’t stand by her and her attempt to save their child. He stood by his commander instead. A grieving teenage mother, and he left her to stand alone before a kingdom! What kind of man does that?

I stood by Thor on the battlefield. I considered him an ally and comrade, and I hoped for her answer further that belief, but instead they make me question Asgard is a whole. What kind of society thinks that’s acceptable? Banishing a young grieving mother, because she won't stop loving her child more then her kingdom?

“What about your family?”

* * *

 WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1603 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

_My family..._ “I haven’t seen my family or friends in over 600 years.” I got over this pain once, but then everything came back, fresh as the day it happened.

“You've been here alone, on earth this whole time?” He asks with such pity it's almost amusing, not that I expected anything different. “And seen none of your people. No one?”

“No one friendly.” I offer, remembering Lorelei and her 'offers'. “There was a women, another enemy of Asgard. But unlike me her crimes were actual crimes. She could bewitch men with her voice, filling them with the overwhelming desire to please only her. If it would make happy, they'd turn their blades on their own blood. She wanted me to use my magick to keep her fragile but disposable army of humans alive as long as possible. I could refuse her because I was a woman, and I did until she found someone I cared about, someone she could hurt. I served her until I realized she'd abandoned her army, by force or choice, and I abandoned it too.”

“And this person you cared about?” He asks, half figuring out the details on his own.

“A boy. A son.” I elaborate with a pained smile. God I miss him too, that beautiful corn-silk blond with oceans in his eyes. “My little seagull. His name was Skari. He was orphaned by disease. As much as I tried to avoid humans, distrusting and fearing them, there were times I couldn’t ignore my need for their skill, or their suffering. I was there when his mother died, in a hovel with his father's corpse already passed in the bed ahead of her, and him screaming like a seagull from his crib. An infant with no other way to voice his his needs. She never told me his name so I gave him one when I took him as my own.”

“I wanted to wallow in the pain of my daughter's death forever, but I couldn’t just abandoned that child to die from cold or hunger or the teeth of scavenging dogs. That boy became my greatest weakness and strength. Everything I did became for that boy, a mortal, human boy, not my boy but still my boy. I served a terrible woman to protect him. I endured human's again, for him. I fought human's for him, I reentered their world for him.”

“I ended up with a village. I ended up with a man that would have loved me if I let him"  _Ormarr..._  "but would stay with me even if I didn’t. I ended up with enough allies to protect me from my enemies. I was a deceiver, an evil spirit, a tool of the devil, or a desperate hope to the Christians. To the Northmen though I was always and only Ividia. They looked to me as a priestess, a goddess, and a leader. We were good, safe, happy together. It was hard, but that boy wanted for nothing. And then he died. All the healing, all the magick I knew, and I could not save him from disease!"

“I didn’t want to love that boy, but I did. I couldn’t help it. I knew what it meant, loving a human. It meant I’d never be able to keep him, that no matter what I did, he would age around me, and die. But I hoped, I thought I’d be able to keep him longer. We live for thousands of years. I had him for two.”

The sight of me shaking my head stills the pity before it can roll off his tongue. I'm getting tired of it, and I need to finish this tale of suffering before I lose my resolve because after this is where it really starts to get worse.“I was angry, I was hurt, I was tired. I lost my daughter, I gave up my family, my friends, my world, and now life stole my son. I only had loss in my past, and all I could see was loss in my future. I wouldn’t submit myself to Asgard's cruelty again, but I didn’t want to spend the rest of life watching the people I knew I’d come to care about dying like flies around me. So I tried to die too. I left everything, and I found a cave and I sealed myself in its ice. I thought for sure it would kill me. I don’t know how it didn’t.”

“I woke up, not to the distorting sight of ice, or rock. I saw shimmering velvet of a canopy, and a painted ceiling with trimmed beams. I was furious, at my lack of success, and at the people who dared to interfere. People, assuming they were people was a mistake, assuming that they weren’t a threat, that I was safe, that words were actually an option. I should have just killed of them all on sight, but I thought the answers to my question were worth it. His name meant nothing to me, and the name of his companions meant nothing to me. The food, the clothes, the pomp and presentation meant nothing to me but everything became very clear when...” I falter at the name but but struggle on anyways “...Johann Schimdt shot me in the stomach as a reward for my refusal. My mistake for assuming humans were still incapable of firearms.”

“HYDRA talked about you...or 'you'. The Superior Man, the thing they hoped to use me to create. Always 'you', always Captain America. Always the 'Hero' who was somewhere else. I remember, begging, hoping, praying to 'you', to this 'man', this 'force' that could cause them so much concern, so much trouble. But all I ever heard was how 'you' and your people took down base after base, freed prisoner after prisoner. Captain America stopped all these monstrous things from happening, but it was never where I was, and I started hating 'you' for that. They were cutting pieces out of me, and 'you', this 'Hero', 'you' were there for so many others but you were never there for me!"

* * *

 WEDNESDAY, JULY 4TH 2012

1606 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

_You left me there, you let us die! I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT HIM! TELL ME WHERE HE IS?!_ That’s what she screamed at me in the park. That’s what I didn’t understand. _Me? Us? But not Loki?! She blamed me for her suffering, for her 'death', but not just hers. She said us, she blamed me for someone else too. Someone else that was in HYDRA's hands with her, someone that suffered with her, Someone who's location she lost, someone that died...?...!_

I don't let her stop me this time. I meet her resistance with mine, forcing her gently into the hug. Whatever punishment she has in mind, whatever control she doesn't have, I’ll take the pain. “I got you. I'm here now. I promise.” but thankfully all she gives me is the silent shiver of tears. “I got you. Shh, I got you. I promise, I'll take care of you.” _It's her! I found her!_ _I found her Bucky!_ _All this time, right in front of me and it's always been her!_


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

* * *

THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0733 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"Did you know?" I ask again, hating the question even is it comes out of my mouth, hating the way I say it so passively, is if I'm actually okay with all of this.

"We knew she was in HYDRA custody..." Natasha answers from her position behind me, her body resting at a lean against the wall, while mine sits on the bed with my eyes fixed on the box of my past. "...during the same time period is Sergeant Barnes, but the files we recovered used specimen numbers, and didn't bother listing the locations."

Of course they didn't. It was war, information like that was so valuable it might is well have been typed in gold ink. Its more then likely that some of the files and reports they found were written in code to protect the research too.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She asks, already knowing what my intentions are even though I haven't spoken them. I asked her to have this box delivered here after all, and I'm sure she watched the footage of our conversation, she probably would have even if J.A.R.V.I.S hadn't advised security to stand by.

I wish I could answer that question with a yes. I wish I could be certain of my decision, but I'm not, and in fact I'm a little scared of it. I just gained ground with her, but what if doing this losses me that, what if it pushes us back farther then we were before?

_You let us die!_ Us, not just her, but him too. She blamed me for Bucky's death, and she isn't entirely wrong to do so. If Bucky hadn't followed me into the fight he wouldn't have been on that train that day, he might not have died in the war, he might have lived long enough to be claimed by old age. Knowing she blames me for that hurts, but I've blamed myself for it too so I understand. I blamed myself for it for a very long time, even if Peggy's words were right, even if it happened because made a choice. I still told myself it was all my fault, that it happened because Bucky rejoined the fight for me. But Bucky didn't do it just for me. He was still part of the Army, and they would have put him back int the fight somewhere, so he choose the fight that to mattered to him. People don't make decisions like that just for 'one' reason, there's always several, even if there not all conscious of them. Its true that Bucky was always loyal to me and knew I wasn't going to back down from my mission, but he was loyal to her too.

* * *

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 4TH 1943

2257 HOURS

ALLIED HQ, LONDON

CLASSIFIED

* * *

STEVE

* * *

After pacifying an angry couple, several angry patrons, an angry bartender, and an angry Colonel Phillips I got to the last angry person on my list, and the one I really wanted to talk too.

Bucky's sitting on the edge of my bed in my private quarters, his forehead resting against his knees and his fingers intertwined at the back of his head. I told them to put him in here until he sobered up and cooled off a little, and if it weren't for the lack of a bowl at his feet I'd almost think that position meant he felt nauseous. I'm glad he isn't though because don't want to argue with a man while he's being sick.

"How's the guy?" He asks while still keeping his head down, apparently recognizing me by my shoes.

"He's fine." I offer in return is I grab the desk chair, spinning it a little to line it up and face him before I sit down in it as I hold out my canteen. "Have some water."

There's a few seconds of silence and stillness that follow that request, leaving me wondering if he is really going to ignore it and force me to make it an order. That worries broken though when he ruffles his hair and straightens up with a dramatic sigh before taking the container from me, emptying it of a few swigs. "And the Lady?" his tone adding respect he didn't feel for the first question.

"She's fine too, though after your 'performance' I had to promise never to let her lay eyes on you again." That brings back the silence again. I can see him chewing the inside of his lip a little after he wipes his mouth, before his thoughts clear on the edge of a shrug. "Sorry. Hope I didn't to get you banned from your favorite bar." He offers is he offers the canteen back to me, is he actually thinks I care about being allowed at Crocker's Folly or not.

"You want to know about Dugan next?" I ask half in genuine inquiry, and half calling him out on whats obviously a stalling tactic.

"No." This time he chuckles, shaking his head in time is if he actually isn't sorry for the bar fight he almost started. "Dugan's fine, he's probably gonna thank me in the morning, crazy Irish bastard."

"Bucky..." Even with just the tone I use for his name I can see his mood darken. "You punched a disabled man in front of his date!" That doesn't stop me from finishing though. I understand that this huge role reversal for us, that me stepping into the shoes of peacekeeper and 'his' backup would be a hard pill for him to swallow but that's how it is now.

"Disabled my....! He was only missing three fingers!" He hollers back, more out of what seems like frustration than anger, not that it isn't there. I can see it creep into his features immediately after. "Fine" He starts, taking a few breaths to calm back down. "Yes, You're right. I over reacted. I was 'you' for a second..." he accuses is he wags a finger weakly in my direction. "But I wasn't just going to let them hurt..."

"Them?" I don't miss that slip, but Bucky does, because for a second he actually looks surprised and a bit confused why I said it.

"Him..." He corrects, pressing the bottom of his palms into his eyebrows and tapping his fingers against the top of his head before stilling them in unison. "Him, I wasn't just gonna stand by and let 'him' treat her like that."

"Bucky, I of all people appreciate standing up for a dame, but the way you acted..." He put his hand on her arm, not aggressively or with force, but he just grabbed her like he knew her and tried to pull her behind him. "You scared that woman, so much she wanted me to make it very clear she's marrying the man you suckered, and he's got a lot of brothers."

"I know, I..." He huffs with a little amusement and maybe a note of pride recalling that swing, before his hands drop revealing his expression is it shifts to perplexed. "really, she's marrying that?" Before he moves on with a shake of his head. "Right, never mind. it was the alcohol, I admit it, she just... she looked like 'Her.'"

_Her? not just her but 'Her' spoken with affection...of course its a 'Her'._ Bucky might be the less attractive one of us now, but that when he's with me. Bucky's still a handsome fella, and he's been out here for a while without me being his competition. Of course he's probably got a sweetheart, probably a nurse or someones secretary he chatted up. "They did make me a real Captain you know, If you want, well were on leave I could pull some strings, see if I can arrange a trans..."

I figured he'd appreciate the gesture, but the half second of fury in his eyes stilled my tongue before his own started forming words."She's dead Steve. How you gonna bring her here?"

_Don't take it so hard. Maybe she's got a friend._ I didn't really think anything of the fact that he started putting the bourbon away double time after that joke, what I believed was just a friendly joke after he was blown off so completely by Peggy, but now it makes a little more sense. _God, I'm such a jerk. I didn't see the other pain hidden under the physical ones._ "I didn't know."

"Course you didn't." He says that with a huff, like there's any amusement actually in there, but if I believe that my mind would have been changed be the way the tension burned out all the pleasantness in his face.

"They uhm, HYDRA..." He says it like the word tastes foul "...shot her, in the stomach." He volunteers before I ask, the look on his face telling me he is forcing himself to say that sooner then he's ready too, because that's not something your ever really ready for.

"Was she one of ours?" If she was a prisoner of HYDRA the odds are strong she was with the Allies, and might even have been part of the Army. If that's the case maybe I can do something. Get a hold of the right people and make sure she's honored probably, make sure her family is informed.

"Pretty sure she was a civilian." He offers after he shakes his head. "I think she was Italian" His tone softened by thought. "Her name sounded Italian."

HYDRA broke ties with the SS which made Germany's allies HYDRA's enemies, but last I knew they weren't in conflict with Italy this far east. If she was Italian, she might have been part of Mussolini's RSI, but then again, HYDRA was holding her where Bucky was so I doubt it. Given Italy's signed an Armistice with the Allies, its more likely she might have been a captured spy. "You think? You're not sure."

"I'm not sure if she was even sure anymore." The empty amusement re-invades his voice before he hides his scowl behind his fist, letting out a frustrated breath. "Those crazy bastards said she wasn't human, and she said it too... Maybe she wasn't."

"I know, it sounds insane" He follows quickly is his eyes flick to mine and my reaction. "But' you', if you weren't sitting right in front of me, 'Super Soldier Serum' would sound insane too." and in the face of that logic I can't really argue. I've never considered it before but he's right. If I'm possible who's to say other things aren't too. "...and I saw the things she could do."

"She saved my life Steve." It comes out with chuckle, but it's the kind of one you'd expect to here right before a fight "I didn't even realize she did it at the time.... that stupid woman! She..." in what must be a calming attempt he steeples his fingers in front of his mouth for a second, his tone emerging softer after his efforts. "I was so sick and she healed me, made herself weak doing it, but she healed me... cause she said I had eyes like her son, like her dead boy." O _h Jesus..._ His emotions overcome that barrier quick enough, raising the volume a bit again. "Damn stupid beautiful women, putting herself second in a place like that! With people like that!"

"What did she do?" I want to say something to make Bucky feel better, but those are the words I choose to say instead because I know there's nothing I can say.

"I told you. She could heal Steve..." He reiterates, sounding a little frustrated that I'm not catching on to what he considers obvious "...like some sort of miracle worker! I watched her heal herself, felt her heal me. I had pneumonia and broken ribs, but she held my damn hands and next thing I know the cough starts going away and breathing doesn't hurt so much! I should have know something up right away. She never let me touch her before that. But we had no real blankets and the rain was coming through the cracks, and I thought she was scared or cold." There's a bit of awe even is he recalls the event, and guilt in his eyes. "I should'a known sooner. I shouldn't have let her do that."

Part of me still wants to jump on the fact that's impossible, but I am a living definition of the new possible, and I don't want to be guilty of my own hypocrisy. That doesn't mean I entirely believe it was a miracle and that I don't have questions. "If she could heal herself why didn't she try to escape?" She could have conserved her strength and played possum, waiting for the right moment when they let her guard down.

"They were branding her feet Steve." _I didn't want that answer._ I didn't think HYDRA was going to be nice to a prisoner, but I didn't think they'd be crippling a civilian woman with fire either! "They did it like clockwork. I could count time by it, her screaming, and the smell of burning skin is they dragged her back to her cage." its actually disturbing how easy it is for Bucky to say that, how used it he must have gotten with all the times they did it! "They wanted what she could do, and she couldn't give it to them."

"Couldn't." He reiterates, noticing the question furrowing my brow. "She would have if she could . To stop the pain, to stop the killing. I know she wanted too." He admits with a disgusted cringe. "Whatever it was she could do, it took energy, but she could take that energy too, drain the life out of things and make it hers. That's why she wouldn't touch me when she was hurt. She tried to stop doing it, but you cant make choices like that when you're unconscious. That's what they did with us when we useless. to weak to work on their machines, put our deaths on one woman instead of doing it themselves like men!"

They made her an executioner to save on ammo, Jesus! But he said they made her do that when she needed to heal, when they did to much, and left her to weak, they's sacrifice peoples lives to her to forcefully prolong her own. "Then wouldn't they just have sacrificed another prisoner after they shot her?"

"Yeah." He grinds out through his teeth, and for a moment I really think he's going to go through with punching my dresser given the way he is eyeing it. "They probably tried. Those idiots treated her like some sort machine. Its like they thought is long is they kept fuel in the tank she'd last forever, they could just keep experimenting on her forever. They never thought she'd finally break, that her powers could go away."

"He..that bastard with no face, he figured out I mattered to her! I don't know exactly what happened but I got a pretty good guess. they took her to him, and when they brought her back with torn clothes..." I cant see it but I'm pretty sure the hatred in his eyes is mirrored in my eyes too. I hope Bucky's not right, but I know he is, I know Schmidt tried to force himself on her. I'd like to think he could be better then that, maybe because what made him made me, and his potential is my potential, and I could never imagine doing that myself. "They threw her into my cage with is many bruises is broken bones, so she would wake knowing the cost of her refusal." From what Bucky said I gathered something else though, this miracle of a woman must have performed another miracle. She fought him off! He wouldn't have beaten her like that otherwise. The Red Skull seems to be cold and cruel, but apathetically so. what he 'tried to do' he probably did for a purpose, what he actually did he did for personal reasons.

"They wanted to make her kill me, they wanted her to wake up to that." He continues right along, finding something fascinating or confusing in his hands. "But when she woke up, even though I held her all night to keep her warm, we were both alive." There's a momentary huff at that. "I think even unconscious she knew it was me. I think rather then stealing it form me she used up whatever energy she had left healing the worst if it, I could feel it happening under skin Steve...and I think it was to much."

The guilt takes back over his expression. "She was so scared when she woke up. She actually threw herself away from me she pushed so hard, and then she realized I was still alive! She started crying after that. She told me it was gone, that she was gonna die! She told me they were finally gonna kill her! I told her it was gonna be okay, that I'd get her out of there. That I'd take her home, back to Brooklyn, back to you! I promised her that! That it would be the three of us, that we'd take care of each other. I promised her that and I let them put bullets in her Steve! I let them kill her, and I left her body there to burn!"

"Bucky, you didn't have a choice. The building was blowing up. We had to escape, if we stayed we would have died too." It all happened in minutes, between the time I found him on that table and when we ran out of the smoke, gasping for fresh air is he collapsed his knees in the dirt coughing from the ash.

"I KNOW BUT I STILL DID IT!" He finally snaps, his guilt and anger at himself exceeding his control. "I KISSED HER AND PROMISED HER STEVE! I TOLD HER I'D KEEP HER SAFE AND SHE GOT SHOT PROTECTING ME! SHE DIED BECAUSE OF ME, AND I LEFT HER THERE, I LEFT HER BODY BURNING IN THAT PLACE, IN THAT HELL!" Before the outburst exhausts him a little. "They were 'right there' too Steve, the men responsible for all her pain, and I couldn't do anything! I just leaned on that damn railing and watched them escape!"

"Are you sure she was there?" I ask quietly, feeling some guilt of my own. I never met her, I never knew about her until I stepped into this room minutes ago. But I was there, I was the reason that building started to burn, the reason that a good woman was ashes buried among the ashes.

"Yeah" He shakes his head, still fighting off the claws of his fury. "She couldn't heal and she had bullets in her, once they figured that out they would tried surgery to keep her alive. He didn't even hesitate to blow the place up though. His weapons didn't matter, they could build more, but if she was still alive, he'd at least take the time evacuate her first. There was only one her."

_She was one of a kind. That's what he's really saying, what he really felt._ "We will get them Bucky." I can practically hear his teeth grind from the tension I can see ticking his jaw is I drop my hand on his shoulder in apology, but the way Buckys face lifts to mine tells me he wants something more then condolences even before his words do.

"God damn right we will. I have plans for that 'doctor'." I can't really blame him for wanting vengeance, and I even think he might deserve it, for all that happened there. But were also at war, and I think Schmidt should answer for more then her and Bucky, no matter how much I agree with him.

"No Steve." He counters stubbornly before I can even voice a word of my argument "They need to die! HYDRA thinks genocide is okay, has an army with tech we can barely match, and that 'man' practically punched through metal!" He snarls a little, remember our brief fight on the walkway

"He's too dangerous to let live anymore" Bucky might have a point. Even though that shield wasn't that impressive, it was still metal, and who's to say that's the most he could do? Even I haven't figured out what my limits are yet. What would it take to hold him prisoner? How much trail and error would we be willing to risk to find out, how many lives might we risk?

"And is longer that butcher of a doctor..." he continues right along, the disgust in his voice thickening at the mention of the shorter man he couldn't take his eyes off of back at the factory "...is still alive he's gonna keep hurting other people trying to recreate whatever created you!" The hatred there hurts to see, but I can't blame Bucky for having it. I know he knows I'm not like that, but the same science made us, and he saw the worst version of that. "I wont let that happen Steve, I cant, not after I had to watch helpless is they did it to her! I'll follow you because I've always followed you, you're my brother, and somebody's got to watch your back, big or not, but I'm doing this for her too, because I have to do something! Even unconscious she choose me over her own well being, I think she loved me Steve, not that we'd ever dare say it there, but I think she did and I failed her! The least I have to do is make sure she's the only one they get to do that too! You have to let me do that."

"Did you love her too?" they question seems to throw him for a second, is if he didn't think of it before, or not seriously, not in a way he actually might have believed was possible while still trapped in that nightmare. 

"….I think I could have" He answers after a moment, a sad but very sincere smile on his face. "if I gotten the chance to really know her, yeah. No..." He corrects so quickly I almost though he changer his mind before he continues on and clears up my mistake. "No... a woman like that. I know I could have loved her."

"I'll help you do it. We'll do it your way, we'll make them pay Buck." My argument for due process was weak anyways.

* * *

THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0734 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this?" The papers yellowed with age, and if it wasn't inside a protective sleeve I imagine it would feel somewhat brittle too under his fingertips. I'm actually surprised he didn't take it out. Instead he seems content to trace his fingers over the old folds and slightly faded pencil marks. The drawing certainly held up well.

"Yeah..." He mumbles somewhat, with most of his attention still fixed on the dancing figures face. Considering he probably drew that from a description alone some 70 years ago, he did a pretty good job. "...I'm sure. It's her. She needs to know."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on under the same title and pen name.

CHAPTER TWENTY

* * *

THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0801 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

She's standing in the sunlight, and that sight makes me have to check my apology. It's been over month since I learned to accept this Nora is a different Nora now, and over a year since I learned the standards of dress are different now. This doesn't change the fact that seeing her stand there, pleasantly basking in the warmth for the sun in a sports-bra and athletic capri's give me pause for a second. Or maybe if I'm more honest, its the pale line climbing her spine surrounded by her otherwise tan skin. _I know what that is know. A mark and memory of monsters._

"I'm sorry." Hearing 'her' apologize startles me for a second, is I find her eyes no longer looking through the glass but meeting mine, makes me realize she caught me starring.

"No." I offer back is I shake my head with a soft smile. "It's still a little strange. But this is you now. I want you to be comfortable around me. I'll get used too it."

"Thank you." The gratitude there is real, but it doesn't stop her from immediately lifting her pink robe off the coffee table and sliding it over her shoulders for my comfort anyways. I want to say something about that, but we both know that there's another mark on her skin from another monster, that I can bear to look even less. I didn't know her during WWII, and while that does excuse me 'a little' for failing her, I did know her during the battle for New York. Even though I can blame others for keeping me in the dark, I still have less excuse for failing her then.

"What is this?" She asks, approach as she finishes tying her robe and letting her eyes point in place of her hands.

"I..." a word in, and I pause, letting out a huff past what resembles a smile through open teeth. "I thought we could have breakfast together." I continue is I roll back the lid of the cart. "Like we used too." Revealing the large pile of waffles and toppings underneath.

* * *

 THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0802 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

_Don't laugh. You can smile, but don't laugh._ I don't find it funny, I find it wonderful, and adorable. Most people when they consider bringing their friend breakfast in bed, they brings eggs and toast, and maybe some fruit. Steve however shows up with an entire waffle buffet. That's not even including the three potted orchids. Three, I bet because he couldn't decide on a color. _Bless his heart._ "You really cant stop being perfect can you?"

* * *

 THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0802 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"I'm... sorry?" I offer in awkward reply. She's smiling which is good, but those words sounded like a complaint, and I'm still figuring her out so I don't if I should take that seriously or not.

"No." She shakes her head with a note of a chuckle, a sound that starts to reassure away my doubts. "Don't apologize for that. I never really wanted that." Before her eyes drift back to the plants with an odd sort of earnest edge barely hidden in them.

"Do you like them?" I pose the question even is I pick the pink one up, in its coconut shell like pot and hold it out to her in offering. Its only after her eyes meet mine again in question I realize what that earnest is. She thought she needed my permission.

_Of course she would think that._ We stripped her of everything organic, of everything real. That was cruel of us, and a mistake that I'm going to fix. I make no attempt to hide my pleasure when her eyes travel back to the flower, and so does the rest of her. She takes a few steps closer, before she lets her hand cradle the free side of the round clay, gently guiding the flower closer to her face, while her eyes drift close is she breaths in the scent.

Its beautiful" She admits, raising my spirits up, right before she kicks me back down. "I'll let Maddie have them."

"Nora" I plead softly, is I let my grip on the pot shift to cover her hands is well, ignoring the flinch of a shiver. Its a risk, touching her, but she deserves it. She deserves to be treated more like a human the a bio-hazard. "I got these for you. Just you." I can see the argument forming predictably. "I want you to be happy here. Its not a gun Nora, not a bullet, its a 'flower' and I trust you with it." _Please, trust yourself too._

"I appreciate that" She looks sad again, even with the smile pulling of her lips is she hangs her head. "But your not only one who might be at risk."

"Right now I am." Now she just looks surprised. "We're the only ones in the house Nora."

* * *

 THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0804 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

_We're the only ones in the house..._ I can see the sting in his eyes is I slide my hand free from beneath his, but being who he is, he soldiers on through the pain. "I uhm, I wanted to be able to talk to you, without you being scared of yourself."

_Of myself._ That's what he thinks frightens me. He's only half right, only speaking half of it. He knows what I'm really scared of, and he knows I know it too. He's just to nice to say it, but I'm not. "What I'm afraid of is you..." _always you, always everyone, always humans._ "I'm barely in control and I'm scared that I'll hurt you, I don't want to hurt any of you." At this point my calm gives way to my annoyed frustration "You sent them away but your still here. I can hurt you too Steve!"

"Regrettably I don't think that's true..." He looks sick with guilt is he speaks those words, but all I feel is confusion at what I did that brought him to that conclusion "I know what the Red Skull did to you." Both of those emotions fade in the face of his verbal punch to my stomach, because it had nothing to do with me.

* * *

 THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0804 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

I didn't want to bring it up like this, but in truth I didn't want to bring it up at all because how do you? What way is right? Is there even a right way to tell a woman you know she was almost raped by your enemy, by the only other 'man' like you that ever existed? I'm not at all surprised how quickly or aggressively she retreats from my attempt at a comforting touch.

Her brows are drawn in heavily, I can see the gritted set of her teeth and tick of her jaw through her cheeks. Even the way her body is angled toward me all tell a story of what is happening inside her head. The twin shimmers spilling over the rims of her eye lids tell another, and the wilting petals of the closets plant balance in the box of my hand start the last chapter to the tale."Nora, I'm so..."

The shiver in her voice finishes it. "N-No, no, no no. We're not talking about this. Y-You need to go."

* * *

 THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0805 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

They took my doors, all but the one leading out of the apartment. I never faulted them for that, it made sense at the time. It was so I couldn't barricade myself, or take a hostage, it was for their safety and I didn't mind but I find I wish I had them now.

He followed, after pausing long enough to free his hands of the box they held, and found me in the bathroom which I choose is my escape. I knew even is I was making that choice that thinking I could escape there was a mistake, but I did not think I would be allowed out of the room, even with Steve's assurance we were alone in the house, there was always the knowledge of at least one other still being present. J.A.R.V.I.S is the one person here I can never hurt, but I'm sure he is smart enough not to let me outside while I'm like this, better that I confine myself in a room of tile and stone then make him do it.

"I said go away" I repeat is I hear Steve's hands rustle the fabric of the curtains that replace my doors, pushing them aside in complete disregard to the reason I released the knot holding them open in the first place.

His acknowledging refusal is the next thing I hear, making me smirk past my closed eyes and rest my forehead against the dark blue slate of my sink, letting my forehead enjoy the cool contact along with my hands. "I don't want to hurt you Steve" I whisper after a steadying breath is I lift my head back up and open my eyes for the rest of my plea. "Don't make me."

* * *

 THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0806 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"I know you don't." I don't want to do this, I don't want to upset her. I hate seeing her like this, and I hate that I'm causing it even more, but I think I have too. I think unless I actually force the issue, and show her, she's never going to get over her fear of hurting us. "And you wont" I add gently is I step farther into the room and rest my hand on her shoulder. That reassurance is just is much for her is it is for me, because is certain is I am my confidence is still just a theory, that I'm about to put to a very risky test. "Not like you can the others. I know what he did to you, and I know you couldn't stop him."

* * *

 THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0806 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

_Don't. Not him. Don't. Not him. Don't..._ I chant silently, keeping the words inside so as not to waste the breath I'm so carefully regulating is I rock slightly back in forth. These thoughts aren't Steve's fault, these memories aren't his fault, but even that isn't enough to let me tolerate the well meaning weight of his hand on my back.

* * *

 THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0807 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

The way she turns around isn't openly aggressive, which I take for the blessing that it is, but its far from passive. The tension I felt settle into her shoulders before she moved made that clear enough, but if it hadn't, seeing the way her hands gripped the sink with white knuckles is she settled her back against it would have erased the rest of my doubts. "And you want to bet your life on that? That what I couldn't do when I was tortured, and starved, poisoned and weak I can't do now that I'm healthy! I'm a weapon Steve and if they have to learn, all weapons can be forged to destroy!"

Those words feel so heavy, but I force myself to keep my tone light when I respond. "I'm not betting my life on that, I'm betting my life on 'you'." I insist, and back that up with proof of my trust. Sitting on the edge of her tub I place myself farther from the doorway, and give her the advantage of the higher ground. Her stature and size make it a deceptive advantage, but even though i'm a Super Soldier, she's Asgardian, and I think she could take me if she really wanted. "You're my friend, you're not a weapon Nora."

The eyes that had been meeting mine now find interest in her shower door, is her fingers pinch back the tension settling behind her eyes, and force it down into her smile. "I am." Before the sound of me taking a breath lets that tension break free into angry frustration is her hand smacks back down against the slate and she fixes me with her pissed off green eyes. " I made my self into one, I had too! I'm older and fouler then you want to admit! I commanded vikings Steve! A foreign born 17 year old girl, alone! That didn't just happen, I wasn't just given that, I had to take it, and I didn't keep it without spilling blood and showing force! I've been a weapon long before HYDRA picked me up and started wielding me against my will. I've been a weapon almost is long as I've been on this planet!"

"Not when you were with him." Surprise, pain, a plea, and acceptance. I can see all of that dance across her eyes is her posture weakens slightly against the stone. I think she always knew I'd figure it out, I think she was waiting for it, is much is she was hoping against it. "Not when you were with Bucky. When you were with him, you were just a woman, just a person, Bucky would want th..."

"He's dead!" She snaps, the tone soaked with is many tears that are threatening to spill again. "What he wants doesn't matter!"

"It matters more then ever because he's dead." My determination pushes me passed my desire to spare her feelings. He deserves it, and so does she, even if she doesn't want it. "He loved you!"

"I know!" She shouts back, and admitting that steals all her fire and strength. "I know..." She sobs softly even is she stands so steady. "I know, I know he did, and that's why I hate myself so much" But my attempt at comforting her reignites some of that spark. "Oh don't you 'Nora' me! He loved me! I thought he died trying to protect me, and I forgot him! He loved me and I forgot him Steve!"

"I forgot that I knew him..." She continues right along, though the distance in her eyes makes my unsure if she's speaking to me or at me. "...and that I loved him, and I had to learn how he really died FROM A BOOK, how part of it was vengeance for a women I didn't even realize was me! How even being dead, his people, and yours, Captain America who I hated, your Howling Commando's, your S.S.R were among the men who found me and set me free. I learned all of this, and none of it meant anything to me because I forgot..."

"Nora..." This time I get back to me feet, taking a risk, but asking her permission to is I hold out my hands, stepping forward slow enough to give her refusal a chance. I can't imagine what that feels like, other then to know that it hurts, and that I can see that pain defeating her. "Bucky's death isn't your fault..."

"And it wasn't yours either" The bitter amusement in her chuckle is just is genuineness is her sorrow. "But can you honestly tell me that it doesn't still hurt Steve?" is well is her immediate regret, that makes her have to fight her need to avoid my gaze.

* * *

 THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0809 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

_God, why would I say that. Am I that much of a bitch now?_ "I forgot all the specifics..." His voice, his smile, the callouses on his hands, his kiss and his fingers on my naked scalp. "I forgot him, I forgot me, I forgot you! I was supposed to meet you. That's what he wanted, to bring me back to you, to use me for you, sick, small you. He felt guilty about it, but I didn't care, I didn't mind, I loved the idea. It was supposed to be the three of us, taking care of each other and defying the world, that was the promise. I forgot the details, but I still remembered the feelings."

"I didn't know why you mattered so much." I can still perfectly recall the steady hiss of the leaking punching bag, and the smear of red on the canvas when I first saw Steve. "What it was about seeing you, standing there with your knuckles bleeding into the sand that gave me such strength. I only knew you were important, that you mattered, that I had to help you. I never figured it out, why I cared so much about you right from the start."

"Deep down something in me knew though. It remembered that feeling, that importance I placed on you, a version of you I never got to meet, but still recognized. Everyone else I, my phobia made me greet with caution and nervousness, but you I just... embraced." Even though I forgot the promise, I end up honoring it. Steve was hurt, and I was supposed to take care of him. "I forgot who Jame's was but not what he was to me, I saw so much of him in you, his best friend who I didn't even know, ...and then I remembered you, I realized you were his Steve, and you were also the living symbol I spent so long hating. I remembered him too, and now every time Jame's shows up it hurts."

* * *

 THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0810 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

The question is adorably silent, but its still there. "Did you really think I could live for thousands of years and not have ghosts that haunt me?" What I meant is just a statement of fact ends up putting some unwelcome guilt in his eyes, and an apology in his mouth.

"I'm sorry too." God, this feels so wrong to admit, like speaking it's a sin. "I actually love when Jame's visits, until I wake up. Did you know, I saw him there in the castle, where he died."

For a moment he looks confused, then realization peaks in his eyes before a distant sadness settles in. "Pierce's son?"

"Yes. Alexander." I confirm even if 'son' might not have properly defined Duncan's relationship with his father. I still want to call him that name, because that's what I knew him as, but that's not his name. On Asgard we value our names more then anything, well on Earth, they seem to mean so little. Alias's and nicknames abound, but for all I hate Asgard, it is still a part of me, and his true name was Alexander, so that is what he will be from now on. "I, we were attacked by the Chituari, and somehow Alex got me away, to safety. I was injured, and barely conscious, and I was hallucinating Jame's. I was so happy because I thought he was there to take me with him, that everything was over and I'd finally find piece. Then I woke up, to find myself sleeping on the corpse of another good man, who died like all the good men around me seem to, because he cared about me to much to leave me."

Again he tries to reassure me that I'm wrong, and I wish I was, just is much is I wish he wouldn't, but he is always going to do that. "No, I get everybody good around me killed. Kenna, Skari, James, Clint, Alexander, all these good people, and they end up at risk or dead because of me."

* * *

 THURSDAY, JULY 5TH 2012

0812 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"And how many people have you saved?" I ask, now standing inches from her, is my eyes and hand drift to hers, and the latter weaves in her fingers without objection.

"You healed Bucky, he told me..." S _he held my damn hands and next thing I know the cough starts going away_ "...what you did kept him alive long enough that I could rescue him."

She should be proud of that, instead she looks like she's ashamed, or wants to deny it. "That was you." I add, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. "You saved an orphan boy, gave him a few more years of life, and I bet you were the best mother too that boy. You saved Barton even though you knew he was still fighting Loki's control and could be your enemy again, you put your own life at risk anyways. You say you had to kill in Norway, but there are history books that say they worshiped you is a Goddess of healing and harvest. Not everything you touch is death Nora, it cant be. And I wont let it be. I don't care what you think, what S.H.I.E.L.D thinks. Yes, you are a force of nature, but there's more to you, to nature, then just ability to destroy things, you just have to let yourself see it. Please just see it?"

When she answers me with silence instead of words I just keep using my own. "We thought you were dead Nora. Bucky thought you were dead. He said you're magick was gone, and they put bullets in your stomach. He was sure your body went up in flames with the factory, he never stopped regretting that. I promised him I'd help make them pay for that, I promised him we'd make sure no one else felt that pain again. If we knew you were alive those promises would have been for you too, he would have made use comb the continent with a fine tooth comb, and I know I'm half a century late, but let me honor those promises now. Let me take care of you, let me help you with this pain, it's what he wanted. "

"What he wanted?" She finally speaks again, much to my delight even if the words sound so sad is her eyes fix on our hands. "I doubt this is what he wanted. I forgot who I loved but not what I loved, and I saw so much of it in you everyday, ...I started to... I was falling in love with his memory, him, through you. I was betraying him with his best friend, and I remembered nothing."

"Its not a betrayal to be happy..." Given that I've already been allowed to hold one hand, I take her other in mine too, this time with much less hesitation. "...and after everything you've told me you deserve it more then anyone."

"It's what he'd want, Its what he did want Nora." He talked about her, when we weren't on missions, when all there was to do was sit and wait, he'd tell me what he wished he could have done with her, this women I only met through his stories. Dancing, dresses, home cooked meals, and place of our own. He wished I could have painted her. He wanted to the sea, and watch the sunset with her on Coney Island. All nice, sweet innocent things, because the rest, you didn't talk about that when they were dead. "He wanted you to be happy and taken care of, rather you were his girl or not."

That finally makes her lift her head a little even if everything else stays so low. "And yes, he would have loved you if that's what you wanted, and he damn well would have put in the effort making sure he won you over, but he would have stepped back to if he thought you loved someone else. More then anything he just wanted you to live without pain, happy, safe, and free."

I'll never be anything more then you want me to be..." I promise her, completely understanding how she feels "...but just let me stay with you."

"I know this isn't going to be easy, and I know you have centuries of emotions that are probably stacked on each-other" She's told me about so many horrible things, and I just hope that its because those are the things she remembers first, that there's more good memory's she hasn't mentioned to outweigh them. "But just let me be here for you, I owe you, I owe him."

God the silence goes on for ever, but when she breaks it with a whisper its all I can do not to chuckle with relief. "Where else are you supposed to be? You owe me a painted rug."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on under the same title and pen name.

 CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

* * *

FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0907 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

She let me spend the entire day, more then a day technically with her, and even though we lived in the same apartment once, I never felt so happy and comfortable in someone's presence. Now, more then ever, being allowed to be be near her felt like a gift. Even when she cried.

It was always part of my plan, and after I got past explaining what I had to, I gave her Bucky's journal. I also gave her one of his army issue sweaters, like the one I found him in and most importantly I gave her the picture of a woman dancing in a polka dot dress. An image of her, of the life Bucky always wished he could have given her. After the Smithsonian was informed that I was alive, they opened up their archives, and offered me the chance to reclaim any of my possessions from the war, and that was among what I chose, what I didn't send back.

I didn't mind giving it to her, I was there when those entries were made and knew what was in them. She deserved it more then I did, Bucky would have wanted her to have it more then me, more then some museum and a never ending line of strangers.

She didn't say anything when I gave her that, her only reaction, other then clutching them to her chest and spilling tears was the slight widening of her eyes is she realized what it was, and the smile that stayed on her face even through her sorrow.

I'd like it if I never had to see her cry again, but at the same time I was happy watching her do that. As confusing and conflicting as that might sound, I was glad because while she did it she let me be there. She let me put a blanket around her shoulders, let me sit at her side, and let me hold her through it. No words, or running my hands over her hair or back, just the comfort of my presence. She let me do exactly what I asked for, just to be there with her even though her feelings for me were so complicated, and that was more then enough.

Even when my phone shivered to life, with a message from Natasha that I was sure ended the moment, she didn't make me leave. In fact after I texted Natasha back telling her it was alright to return to the house, and assumed it was time for me to go, Nora told me to stay and I don't think I've ever been happier with an order before.

She didn't read the journal, which I was fine with. I understood that it was something she probably wanted to, and should be left to do alone.

We just spent time together, eating breakfast, then lunch then dinner together, and talking in between. Not the past, but the present. She asked me about what seem referred to as the 'happy homemaker tale'. Knowing what I did now, I felt worse then ever about that because we made up the lie for the media that she was my girlfriend. She should have been mad at me for that, but she was uncannily understanding. She even laughed at bits of it, and in my mind, that sound made it all okay.

Since she asked, even after she fell asleep on the couch, I stayed. I tucked her in, and like a gentleman, I took the floor.

* * *

 FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0909 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

_They're so cute._ At this point it shouldn't be to anyone's surprise that I spent quite a bit of time checking the security feed through out the night, and watching Captain America sleeping on the floor like some sort of teenage slumber party was absolutely adorable. I am still fighting the very tempting urge to find out how much that picture could fetch me on Ebay, but I'm also winning that fight. The one I'm having more trouble with is disregarding Tony's borderline neurotic insistence that I wake 'spangles' for some 'much needed education on how the world works'.

When J.A.R.V.I.S told me that Tony was about to take remote control of the buildings systems is when I finally agreed, and told him to give me time. Then I immediately got a hold of Pepper to make sure he actually did, more then a few minutes. I wasn't just going to throw a phone at them to appease a particularly mad engineer, even if he is ours.

* * *

 FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0911 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

I woke before Nora did, and couldn't bring myself to disturb her. It might count as creepy behavior, but I enjoyed watching her sleep. She looked peaceful and content with her hands tucked under her pillow and cheek, with the blankets still hiding everything beneath her neck.

The light tapping that I heard penetrate the door told me I wasn't the only one who had this thought. It also told me exactly who was knocking. The sound was too soft for someone who wasn't absolutely sure I was awake enough to hear it.

Sure enough, its Natasha on the other side of the door, with a smile, a food cart, and Miss Saunders. Its for her that I don't tell them to leave the food and shut the door.

It might also have a bit to do with the fact I can hear Nora stirring behind me, and I'm not going to kick her caretaker and sister out in front of her, no matter how I disapprove of the behavior of the latter.

* * *

 FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0911 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

MADDIE

* * *

_Aww, how cute...she slept in her clothes. We're going to fix that behavior._ I decide after I look her over with a bit of disappointment. I thought I was taking care of a Goddess. That thought will wait until after breakfast. While rumpled clothes are distasteful, it is almost a crime to let the food I cooked be eaten cold.

Because he's Captain America, and 'because' 'he's' 'Captain' 'America' I offer him a respectable nod and smile as he lets us pass, and I might let my eyes linger on him a little longer then necessary is his attention turns to miss Romanoff. _Hmm, that man._ Then I make myself get back to work. I do have a Goddess to feed and make decent. "Alright sleeping beauty, up and at 'em. Chop chop."

* * *

 FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0912 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"Thanks." As many disagreements we might have between us, there's nothing but genuine gratitude in that. "For yesterday." Natasha is in-charge of the security and staff, and if she hadn't agreed to it in the end, it wouldn't have happened, I wouldn't have gotten my friend back, not really, not like I did.

"You're welcome." She offers back with a grin, and even a bit of forwardness that I allow when she pats my arm with a bit of a nudge. ,"But..." She drops her voice a little, along with the sinking sense of my happiness. "We do have a problem. Tony wants to talk to you."

* * *

 FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0912 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

They were being quiet, and discrete, but not so much as to be disrespectful. They weren't trying to broadcast their conversation, but they also weren't trying to keep it a secret given that they were right in front of me. The name Tony told me all I needed to know.

"Its okay Steve." My voice catches his attention, mid point, silencing whatever I can see forming in his expression. "Go see what Tony needs. I don't mind."

That seems to snap him from his spell, but not without one more reminder. Moving across the room in a few quick strides I find him cupping my hand in his, though he does restrain himself from any affections beyond that. "I'll make this quick. I'll be back. You have nothing to worry about."

* * *

 FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0913 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"Are you trying to get her arrested?" Is the first sentence Holo-Tony asks me, and I'm not at all surprised or pleased that his question is sarcastic and rhetorical. I'm under no illusion that he doesn't already think he knows the answer. "Did you really think J.A.R.V.I.S wouldn't tell me about your little 'home alone' moment?"

Actually I did think J.A.R.V.I.S would tell Tony, and I even gave the A.I permission because I didn't care. I also knew that while J.A.R.V.I.S is at our beckon call, it ultimately serves Tony, and likely has protocols to report to him even with our objections in place anyways. None of this is spoken, given I am trying to hold off my annoyance as long as possible, but it's displayed very clearly on my face.

"Okay..." The projection sighs like an indigent parent as it pinches the bridge of its nose. "Let me give you an idea of what's going on in the real world. She is Waygu beef," _I really miss the days, where if you could see someone in arms reach, you could punch them._ "She is the last Kobe strip steak in the world, and were the restaurant who have her hidden in the freezer. Now the only reason the customers aren't asking for her is because S.H.I.E.L.D has their hand on that part of the menu."

His lack off mass made it easier to keep my hands in check, but it didn't too much for my mood, when he talked about her like that. "She's not a piece of meat, Tony!"

"SHE IS STEVE!" He shouts back, matching my fire and maintaining it "SHE'S THE RAREST PIECE OF MEAT ON THE PLANET! AND IF YOU KEEP HANDLING HER LIKE AN IDIOT S.H.I.E.L.D'S GONNA TAKE HER FROM YOU!"

* * *

 FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0914 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

TONY

* * *

"They can try." Is his response, and of course it is. Why wouldn't it be? Its only outdated stubborn perseverance. Apparently that must have been attractive once. Right up there with suspenders, waist high pants, and sexism. I thought he got over all of that, I guess I misjudged. _Honestly, how did anyone ever find that attractive?_

"No, Steve," I sigh as I set my weight in a lean against my desk, settling in for the long haul and kind of wondering why I didn't sooner. Nobody says I have to stand for these... "THEY CAN. This isn't some rogue militant cult that your fighting with the backing of a dozen nations! This would be you, the other few Avengers and the expertise of my lawyers."

He starts, that stubbornness latching on to whatever it can find "You have the best legal team on..." and forcing me to educate it again. Honestly at this point it might be quicker, to just start hitting him with a hardcover.

"No!" I groan before frustration forces me on yet again "Don't you get it? If we go to court, all S.H.I.E.L.D has to do to out her as the alien girlfriend of an alien terrorist, and case closed. We lose!" I end with a flourishing wave, surprised but beyond pleased that bit of logic shut him up.

"After Loki, after the Chituari and the pant shitting fear being spread by these Rising Tide punks." _Hacktivists, gotta love 'em._ I don't know how they're giving S.H.I.E.L.D such a hard time shutting down, but I can't say I'm entirely against 'em. "No court, no jury, no government on this planet is just going to let her walk around free. And if you pull another stunt like this S.H.I.E.L.D is going to start to push."

_Ohh, that's a bad expression._ I realized my slip almost as soon as I finished making it, and in true cat out of the bag style, there was no getting it back. "What do you mean another? you told them!"

Ignoring the patriot glower I just confirm that accusation. "Of course I told them! Did you forget the part where the majority of the WORLD Council is against us? What do you think would happen if they found out I didn't? A slap on the wrist?!" For all that my good intentions seem to piss everyone else off, I'm actually on her side too, and it would be nice to get more appreciation for that. I've sorta known her just as long as everyone else. I sent her so many apology radios for that computer screen incident after all. "It's been Fury's recent 'out of the box' track record, and two Councilman's backing that have kept them from just seizing her with a goddamned army, because their giving her the courtesy of coming back on her own, but if you keep doing stupid shit like sending away the security and almost letting her escape..."

"She didn't almost escape, she didn't even try!" He argues back, and while he is right, he's completely ignoring the point. Ignoring it because I can't see how he's stupid enough to actually miss it.

"But she could have Steve, she could have, and S.H.I.E.L.D isn't just going to sit back and let that happen. It's already been proven humans can subdued and control her, their not just going to leave it up to chance on who eventually does. That's the narrative. That's what my lawyers are fighting against everyday."

And now he just looks like a damn kicked puppy, head hung in submission, as he resigns himself to reality, before he seems to accept it. "What do they want?"

"Joint custody" I offer, as a sarcastic simplification with a shrug as I take a sip from my drink, and meet his 'are you serious' expression with another shrug.

"Yeah I know." I add, taking another drink and finishing off the glass. "Sounds like bullshit to me too. 60-40, though. That's what they want. They'll let you stay in charge but they want a S.H.I.E.L.D presence, an unbiased S.H.I.E.L.D presence, on site. They also want a certain number of face to faces with her."

"And they actually think I would trust S.H.I.E.L.D doctors anywhere near her?" I'm pretty sure that was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but in the spirit of politeness I answer it anyway.

"No. they're actually willing to play ball on that. Seriously, they handed you the game, they didn't even make an offer." I can see the surprise, and suspicion in those eyes."I don't trust it either, but that's how the deal laid itself out, and yeah, we've been looking for loopholes."

* * *

 FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0916 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

I'd reached a sort of calm and civil state with the conversation, but hearing a third gentlemen enter the conversation above our heads, and hearing what he said seems to steal both of them from me all over again. "Excuse me gentlemen, but on Miss Arnora's request I have opened the channel within her apartment, and she would like Mr. Stark to inform S.H.I.E.L.D, that she agrees to the deal."


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on under the same title and pen name.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

* * *

FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0920 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

I had to argue her out of it, and in the end I won, only for the fact it was impossible for her to physically force me to do otherwise. That didn't make Maddie's insistence that I strip and get in the damn shower any less ardent. In the end she surrendered, though I'm not quite sure if that counted as a victory, given the enthusiasm she put in each glide of the hairbrush.

Though that discomfort was my own fault, since I asked her. I knew something was wrong with the way Steve left the room, and he would most likely return with just as much haste, so I asked her to brush my hair while I ate.

Watching the projection in front of me only proved my assumption correct, but in the end it was my decision and not just my existence that made Steve hurry back to me. "WHY?" Confusion, offense, and betrayal dancing in his eyes, as his hand clinging to the door is the only thing keeping its knob from taking up permanent residence in the wall.

* * *

FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0920 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

She's sitting there, dressed in a blue paisley summer dress, and stirring the tea in her cup, completely stoic in the face of my storm. The sight of that steals my thunder, and soothes the edges of my wild emotions.

"Maddie" is scraping the drops from the bottom of her spoon against the rim of her cup before she plates it, she quietly commands the attention of the older woman away from her frowning disapproval of me. "Can you give us a minute?"

Her eyes return to mine again, and they carry that disapproval again, but this time its accompanied by hesitation. "How big of a minute?"

* * *

FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0921 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

I understand her reservations about leaving me alone with him. She's worried he will try to change me mind, or undermine my determination, she's worried he matters enough that he can. She may be right that he matters that much, but not that I am so malleable. Its the illusion cast by my appearance, even knowing I am so much older, I look young, and its very easy for humans to forget that sometimes.

"I think I can see lilac in the back yard," The mark on my chest has been agitated lately, I can use the flowers to make a paste that should sooth the physical discomfort at least. "Would you mind getting me some?"

She's still disagreeable about leaving, but her ears don't miss the commanding note, however softly delivered, in my tone. "Of course."

* * *

FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0921 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

Calmer now then before, I wait for the sound of the door clicking into place. Even with that calmness I can't stop my words from snapping out in their hasty repetition. "Why, I told you I'd take care of you, I'd protect you, I told you not to worry, why don't you believe me?"

"I do." She offers in apology, the guilt in her tone telling me she didn't enjoy making me upset, but the lack of regret telling me she has no qualms beyond that. "That's why I did it." She elaborates and clears away my confusion as she rises to her feet, smoothing her skirt in the same motion. "I believe you'll protect me, I believe you'll fight for me, you'll take on armies, countries for the people you care about. Your history has more then proven that, which is why I'm not going to let you."

* * *

FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0922 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

Understanding, and frustration dances through those blue pools. He's exactly like James described him to me. Noble, honorable, and true to point of self harm. The only thing that changed was that his body could no long match his spirit, so he raised the bar on what he tried to achieve and put it dangerously far above his limits again. _He acts like Atlas, bearing the weight of the world. He acts like he doesn't know that Atlas was a punished man._ "Bucky wanted us to take care of each other..."

"Us!" I interject, passion raising the volume of my voice enough to stun him into silence. "Do you understand what 'us' is?" He doesn't object as I take his hand while I pose that question, and then proceed to give the answer too. "Its not just you. That's what the promise was, 'WE' would take care of each-other." James may have died, he may not have gotten to be here, to make us three instead of two like he always envision, but that doesn't mean the promise had to die too, that the promise couldn't survive the change. "WE take care of each other, not just you taking care of me."

"You're not the only one with promises to keep, you're not the only one who cares here, you noble stubborn fool." I promised James I'd be there for a man who was a stranger to me, and now I want to be there for 'Nora's' friend, my friend and I will be even if he doesn't like how I achieve that. "You're gonna let me do this, because you can't stop me Steve, and let me have the freedom you're offering me at the same time."

You'd think he was a puppy I just kicked and stole his bone from the look he gives me as he squeezed my hands in earnest. "I cant just stand by and let you be a prisoner again, you can't ask me to..."

I'm not trying to be rude and disrespect his honesty, but this interruption is necessary, because his one words revealed something. "Steve, I'm always going to be a prisoner..." Hearing that I can see the fire rise in him, and this time he interrupts me, before I repeat the verbal gesture and do the same, silencing him with understanding. "This planet is my prison...haven't you realized that?"

His expression is my answer. It's my fault really for not noticing this sooner. I just assumed when I told him of my banishment that he'd put it together. "Odin put me here as a punishment, and they locked the gateway behind me." It seems that Odin's made a habit of it as well, given that even did it to his son.

"This planet has always been my prison, and it doesn't matter where I am, here, there, outside, underground, I'm still trapped and the only choice I have is who I want holding the keys. I don't like S.H.I.E.L.D, but the truth is, out of all my enemies they've done the least. They lied to me, but I don't think I'd have really wanted to know. Nora wanted to remember so she could finally be like everyone else, they were actually doing her a favor keeping that secret. And... I can trust them."

* * *

FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0924 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

I can't fault her for that logic, because I can't see a fault in it, and in my head that makes me want to accept that she's right, but hearing that last sentence has my emotions up in arms with opposition. "Because they want something from you!"

There's a sad kind of acceptance in her smile as she squeezes my hands back. "Everyone wants something from me..." and silences my argument before it can form "Even you. What you want is much more altruistic, but its still there. You want to be here with me, they want me there with them." As much as I wish she was, she isn't wrong. Its boiled down and simplified, but its still true. "I'm choosing both. They're liars, but they are loyal liars, history's proven they protect their investments. I may need to use that eventually."

She's bypassing optimism and pessimism for realism, and I have to agree that's the smart path, I even respect her for that, but at the same time feel a sting for the world forcing her shut to out her emotions this way. But there's also something in there that worries me. The way she sound like she's anticipating something.

"I made the mistake of misjudging what humans were capable of, and ended up at their mercy Steve." She offers in response to the question she can see growing in my eyes. "I was helpless against their advancements, and that was 70 years ago." Her voice sounds calm, but that's about as far as the illusion can reach. "I'm not going to leave myself open to that again. I'm not going to let my two friends be the only defense between me and that. You don't get to risk your life for me, I'm so tired of that."

Its probably habit, probably the mindset that still lingers from the era I was born, and probably the fact that the strength I've had that still makes me want to handle all of it myself. I got so used to everything falling to me that I'd just take it on myself. I was stronger then everyone after all, and even though I never was disrespectful about it, part of me still fixes on the fact that Nora is a small woman. I want to protect that, but I can't understand why she wouldn't want me to.

After everything's she's told me, after all the people she's lost, I can understand why she's afraid to let that happen again. The pain I felt when I couldn't save Bucky, or Erskine even though I was supposed to be so strong and capable... that must have been how she felt every time she watched a human die. My best intentions make me feel like a jerk, guilty for even wanting to make those feelings possible again.

"I don't like this." I grit out a little through my teeth, hating the taste of agreement on my tongue. "60-40's way to close to 50-50."

* * *

FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

0925 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

"I know" I nod in agreement, stomaching my way past the bile threatening to rise in my throat. "We'll have to trust Tony..." his expression and my own sanity are on equal grounds at hearing me say those words "...and Fury." I never thought I'd say that now that my memories have returned, but the rest of me isn't surprised at all. Arnora, Ividia, Nora, by whatever name I used, I've always been someone who put her people first. This is how I save my friends, my family. Clint, Steve, Natasha, Maddie, Bruce, ...the secret growing inside of me. If they're going to be in danger, I'm not going to be the cause, not without a fight. "You'll have to trust me."

He looks like I kicked the puppy again, I'm going to get so tired of that look before this is all over. Though I can't really think about that when he surprises me a little with a sudden hug. "Its never been you I didn't trust."


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on under the same title and pen name.

 CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

* * *

FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

1413 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

As if today's events weren't already interesting enough, they're set to keep things that way. Once Steve managed to pry himself from Nora's side he went for one of his runs, about five hours ago. If he doesn't return soon I think I'm going to send someone to find him. Despite his acceptance of Nora's wishes, they aren't matched with his approval so I'm sure he's been at it the whole time. Super Soldier or not, stress running that long can't be good for him.

Even Nora seems to be aware of that, not that his anxiety was in anyway subtle. I don't know if it was guilt, or anxiety of her own but shortly after that I got alerted by J.A.R.V.I.S that Nora was asking permission to 'meditate'. The inflection he put on the word, and the fact Nora sought permission in the first place makes it clear that whatever she meant by 'meditate', it involved magick. Though to her credit she heeded his warning that it would demand an actionable response if she proceeded without permission.

That's why I'm here now, among a list of other reasons, and waiting for her to acknowledge my presence.

* * *

 FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

1413 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

J.A.R.V.I.S was very polite when he asked me not to 'meditate' so out of respect to that I contented myself with meditation instead, going through all the motions up until the point of magick. Its nowhere near as effective, but even so breathing exercises and concentration techniques are able to let me center myself a little.

"Are you going to talk me out of it?" The footfalls gave me a hint of their owner's identity, but it was the words, not the voice that really confirmed it before she steps into the peripheral of my opening eyes. "Are you asking me to?"

"I don't know." I admit as I use the coffee table to steady my rise, hesitating to speak more as I frown at the worrisome sound of my knees popping as they shift, the moment being filed away for thought when I regain my privacy. "If I was..." I ask as I brush my skirt back into place while turning to face her "...could you?"

The 'Yes' is in her eyes in tandem with the how rolling off her lips. "Clint." My 'sister', wielding my 'brother' against me like a threat, or the frightening promise of salvation.

* * *

 FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

1414 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

She didn't like that answer, but she did ask for it and as much harm as I know she could do me, fear of pain has never intimidated me into silence. If I hold my tongue it's out of practically. That being said though, past the offended edge in her expression, I can see respect as well for my honesty. "Would you?" And a hint out quiet apprehension.

"Maybe someday..." I supply as my mind studies her question. "But not for this. Not unless you want me to?"

"I'm not sure." She admits, knowing I know. "I miss him so much. Even knowing the truth I can't shake how 'her' feelings for him linger. He was always the one who was there for me, my 'hero', the one who brought comfort and security into my life. That's why I'm afraid of him, of the power that gives him, of what he could do to my convictions. It's better if he stays away from me, its better if he doesn't know. I don't want anymore heroes dying for my cause."

I understand her decision, and why she thinks it's the right one. Or at least the lesser of evils, because there isn't really a right one. She doesn't want Clint to know about the pregnancy, because she knows he would blame himself. She knows Clint would never allow this move, and if anyone could talk her out of having the baby, it might be him. She thinks it's better to spare him the truth for as long as possible, letting him chase down a lie far out of harm's way, in a hollow search for his own redemption. No good choices, just ones with less pain.

I can't say I agree with it, but I will respect it. It's her right, it's every woman's right, to not have someone else make the decision for her. I can't take that for her, no matter what loyalty I feel toward Clint. I won't take that from her, and I won't let him either. That news will wait.

* * *

 FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

1415 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

"But you're not sending Steve away?" Is the question I hear, and the questions I don't are 'are planning on sending Steve away?' and 'Do you need my help to do it?'

I've thought about it, and it is tempting. He holds less influence over me then Clint does, less power to make me change my decision to something I know I'll regret, but he still has some. That's enough to scare me too, when the time comes that I have to tell them, a time that's getting harder and harder to hide everyday. Loose clothes can only deceive for so long.

"Because I can't." Is the answer I give her to all of her questions, spoken or not. In truth the decision was easy to make, because the option seems impossible. I don't know how I could physically prevent Steve from being here. It was easy with Clint because he ran away of his own will, but Steve made the opposite choice, and I can't think of anything or anyone on this planet that could restrain him without resorting to lethal force. _I can't do that, I can't let that happen._

"Do you know how you plan to handle him, when he finds out?" She asks, accepting the shake of my head as answer enough, but the same can not be said for her next question. "Do you know how you handle them, when they find out?"

* * *

 FRIDAY, JULY 6TH 2012

1416 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

The aggressive defensiveness seeping into her expression is unnerving, but I don't back down from the question. If she hasn't thought about it, she needs to now, since she plans to open the door to S.H.I.E.L.D again.

It's been two months since we found her in Central Park, two months since she was in Loki's presence, two months since the child she's carrying must have been conceived. though by what we can tell, the baby, despite being just one is developing in size similar to twins, and is only the equivalent of six weeks.

This is almost all unfamiliar territory. There is what we learned from HYDRA's experiments on her, as well as S.H.I.E.L.D's research on her, and the limited samples we recovered from the new Mexico hospital that Thor was treated in. However with Loki we know next to nothing beyond the legends and brief descriptions from Thor, and even if we did it might not matter because the child would be bi-racial. That's not even touching on the issue that all of the research and data pertains to fully formed adults. Even Nora's knowledge on her own pregnancy is limited, because according to her the last half Jotuns born were conceived several generations before herself, and were the victims of a genocide and intense discrimination to the point of criminality. Asgard seems to consider racial blending, with a few specific exceptions, to be something closer to illegal than taboo. To discourage it even further they apparently censored the knowledge that might make a very dangerous pregnancy survivable.

She's carrying an endangered species in her belly that may or may not have the abilities of his father's race, and all we can do wait for things to go wrong.

"You know S.H.I.E.L.D and the Council are going to have strong opinions about your child. What happens if they decide they want your baby?" The 'mama bear' look intensifies in her eyes before she smothers it with reason, because she's thought of this too. S.H.I.E.L.D won't hurt or kill the child, and we won't let the Council either, but this is still going to be a child fathered by an intergalactic terrorist, with extraterrestrial abilities, and from what we've been told, might have an alien appearance as well. What do we do if the child takes after the father, what do we do if the father returns for the child, or god forbid if Asgard's army does? These are all important questions that need to be discussed ahead of time before we have to start answering to others.

"That's why I need to make them want me more first." _A sacrifice play, a bargaining chip. Another betrayal to Clint, the real reason she doesn't want him here._


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.

 CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

0837 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

As gracious, as respectful is J.A.R.V.I.S is, as accepting is I was of his necessary presence, I think this is the first time I loathed his surveillance. “Miss Arnora?” When his concern finds me naked on my hands and knees in the shower, with my face lined up with the drain. “Miss Arnora are you well? Do you require assistance?”

“No.” I breathe out, the shiver just failing to turn the sound into a whimper is I force my breath back under control. “No, I don’t need any help, don’t call any help.” _I can handle this myself, I just need to focus._ The water, hot and fat drops skipping across my skin, the streams running through my hair, like willow leaves is it escapes in swirls down the drain, the alternating texture of tile and grout tattooing my legs under the weight of me, anything to distract me from the feelings trying to claw its way up from inside me. 

“My apologies Miss Arnora...” I almost laugh at that, frustration and relief battling for dominance. “But given your condition I’m required to supersede your directives and alert the heads of staff in the incidents of faint or collapse.” He's wrong about that, but only just. I didn’t faint or collapse so much is I quickly knelt out of necessity, but that technicality means little next to my other needs.

“Not Steve, please not...” If people are coming, if nothing I say can stop that, it's fine, but not him, not yet. He doesn’t know, and he will have questions, he wont let me leave them unanswered and I can't tell him yet, I’m not ready.

“Captain Rogers is not a head of staff.” He reassures me, his tone albeit digital telling me he understands my reservations. “I have only notified Dr Banner and Miss Romanoff. Further personnel will not be involved without their approval.”

It's still not anything near what I’d like to hear, but I don't fault him for that. He's doing his job, he's doing what he is supposed to, what he has to do each time because eventually he really will need too. “Okay. Thank you.” I offer in appreciation of that, letting my fingers navigating the parallels of tile and grout is I slide them higher, to the curve and feel of metal, and the the slowing sound of the stream being replaced by the drops from my hair and the sound of the door.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

0838 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

BRUCE

* * *

The bowl of Thorrio's is still sitting half eaten on the island counter, and the taste is still clinging to my teeth like some sort of thick fuzz is I match Natasha's pace up the stairs. Apparently there has been a movement to market the Avengers in any and every way from fan art with cat ears to franchises, and General Mills being cereal has released an entire line for each Avenger, and mailed us a promotional crate.

The depiction of Thor is rather amusingly accurate when it comes to him, despite its cartoonishness, and the absolutely off depiction when it comes to Barton, but I guess they were going for a bird mask of some kind. Both of those details are completely forgotten though in the face of the text that said my secretly pregnant patient just fell in the shower.

Natasha is the one who first enters the guest apartment, but I'm so close behind her I only miss the first word from my patient, “...touch me, not yet” who's own actions make that impossible since she is actually holding the door handle from her side where she sits rather weak looking on the shower bench. 

“Gloves...” She continues, lifting her head to meet my gaze with a message of caution, then turning Natasha with a similar message, though one that also contains a degree of modesty. “and a towel.” Both might be unnecessary. Well a naked woman is still a naked woman, is a medical professional I'm more desensitized to that then the average person, being a doctor AND the Hulk.

Is for the caution of gloves, I’ll honor that too. While I think it might be a little over reactive, when it comes to terms of her control and what she can affect or cant, I will always bow to her expertise. So if she thinks there is a risk to me touching her damp skin, then there is a risk to me touching her damp skin. Microorganisms are after all organic.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

0839 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

Hearing her request I make quick work of snatching one of the huge towels from its Egyptian cotton cousins, not even bothering to close the hidden wall closet before I move back to the shower door, politely waiting for her and Banners permission to move farther then that. Seeing that her hand already in the process of falling away from the bar though counts is close enough.

Stepping inside I mind the biggest puddles around my slip-ons, and drape the towel around her shoulders, the back of it so far up on her head it's almost like a hood is she takes it and wraps it tighter around her.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

0841 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

Even though it's cotton, it makes me feel safer, the power of illusion working in my favor for once, even if I am my own deceiver.

They're considerate enough to give me a moment, Natasha at my side with the weight of her hand offering silent comfort from where it rests over my shoulder blade, and Bruce’s own comfort coming in his silent analysis is he rests on his haunches in front of me.

“I feel poisoned.” I finally offer, and the expressions the reply with make me quickly retract that, replacing the word with something more accurate. “Sick, I feel sick, nauseous? I feel...”

“Morning sickness is common at...” He states, a human making the assumption of a human ailment. A diagnosis I should have expected, and would of if not for the worry and discomfort bogging down my ability to think. 

“No its not.” I cut him off, interrupting him with is little rudeness is possible “Not for us. We don’t get sick, I don't get sick.” Asgard has progressed beyond disease and illness eons ago. I, a natural born healer have evolved beyond it, or I thought I had. The chance that I’m wrong, the implications it brings, they're terrifying. “Is that what this is?”

“You've been pregnant before and you’ve never experienced morning sickness?” He asks the question of me, but his eyes travel to Natasha's too, seemingly asking her if she knew anything about this, and earning a shrug in reply. If I wasn’t so worried my smirk might have some strength.

“These things don't happen to us. We know no such pains beyond wounds and poison.”

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

0842 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

BRUCE

* * *

So I have a patient, who isn’t human, carrying a child by someone who is different variety of non-human, who has never even had something akin a common cold, and given the worry barely concealed in her eyes has probably been hiding these symptoms from me as well. There’s a reason doctors aren’t good patients and this is it.

“But you know of it?” I ask, noting the fact that she asked me if this was morning sickness, and not what morning sickness was.

“I’ve been a midwife to mortal mothers.” She answers, smiling a little is she breathes out with a nod. That explains her knowledge of it, and her lack of at the same time. Knowing the description, and that actual feel of it are two different things, and if she's never felt anything like this, without wicked intentions I can't really blame her for what she admits next. “I'm scared, I’ve been a mother before, this shouldn’t be...”

“Arnora, stop.” Gloves or not she still flinches at the contact is I take her hand outside the towel in a effort to claim her attention too. “Whatever this is, stress isn’t going to help. You haven’t been poisoned, you're not dying. We will run test if it helps, I swear to you. These symptoms are normal in human pregnancy. We know how to deal with them, so we're just going to treat them like their normal until we know for certain their not. Okay? This is a new kind of pregnancy for both of us, so we need to relearn what normal is. Tell me what your symptoms are? We'll deal with those first.”

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

0843 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

He's right, and I know he's right, I just let the fear get in the way. I've lived through pieces of human history, so I should have known better. Once a upon a time, a time I was in with them, pregnancy was is much a death sentence for women is cancer is now, and yet children were born, women survived, and their race didn’t die. I know this, I was there, I saw it happen... through the other side of the looking glass. That’s my problem, I watched it happen, through a lens of separation. What I saw could not touch me, was not truly real to me. It was like watching a movie. I could understand, I could sympathize, but I knew it could never touch me, so I could really never understand.

I knew they were afraid, but I never really knew their fear. Even when I thought I was human, when I was Nora I never really understood, even when I was being secretly drugged into a semblance of mortality. _Sulfite sensitivity, I actually believed that, what a fool a was._ Even as an unintended side effect of the drugs they gave me in the guise of vitamins and painkillers, those symptoms didn’t feel like this, I just didn’t know enough to mark the difference.

“Okay.” I agree, saying the word again, and then again is I nod.

His next words, though spoken for me is well are spoken more for Natasha and J.A.R.V.I.S, a doctors instructions for my caretakers. “Get a hold of S.H.I.E.L.D, we'll have to reschedule the....

But then I offer up disagreement. “No...” Allowing him to get my name out before I silence his interruption. “No. I have to meet them. I have see them. I have to pretend. They cant know I’m sick, they can't know I’m pregnant, they can't know anythings wrong. Not yet. Not until I have what I need from them.”

“Arnora” Natasha is the one who speaks, Dr Banner surrendering the floor in a not of mildly frustrated confusion. “They're coming this afternoon.”

“I know” I nod again, the steadfastness in my expression stronger then the feeling itself. “Fix me quickly.” _I’m the worst kind of patient._ I add a “please” for Bruce, because I remember patients like myself, and I bet he feels the same about me is I did about them.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
>  
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.

 CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1205 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

MADDIE

* * *

Holding them both up I give them a small shake, in emphasis of the question I leave unspoken mostly in distaste. She meets me silence with a few more seconds of it, before she adds sound to it at last. “The blue anarkali.” Looking over the blue dress with mustard pleated underskirt and red shawl over after she returns to her efforts of brushing her hair into silk. After a brief study, I also add my own approval to it, reluctantly.

 

I don't like the idea of her dressing up for this man, one of two that is coming, is much is she doesn't. I have not meet him, a blessing that she can not claim the same of, but I have heard of him. I know that type of man, and they all put the same foul taste in my mouth. Not just mine either.

 

“You sure your up to this?” The Captain has just is many reservations and opinions about this meeting is I do, but unlike me he has resigned himself to quiet disapproval in respect of her decision. Unlike me he doesn’t know her true motivations. She said lie, she said keep a big secret, encompassing smaller secrets. I said said no. She said baby, and a monsters name. I swallowed my bile and said okay. I couldn’t say no to that, to a mothers rights, not when I remember what that felt like once.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1206 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

She turns to my question, her eyes finding me where I lean, arms crossed, against her wall is they glance over the shoulder of her dressing gown. “Yes.” She says it with the absence of a smile, just resignation at how many times she has repeated that word, and likely will again.

 

She told me her reasons, and I agreed with the logic of them, even if I couldn’t really agree with them. I agreed, I told myself I was okay with it, then they told me who was part of the pair they were sending, and I argued again. I remembered how he treated her, and I couldn’t just accept it, I still can't, not really. But she argued with logic, again, and I submitted, again. “Sorry.”

 

Don't apologize for this...” I hear her mutter after breathing out a weighted sigh. “I’m not looking forward to this either, it just needs to be done. If anything, I should apologize. I feel like I'm forcing you through it with me.”

 

My lips tighten on the smile a bit is she said that, due to the uncomfortable humor in my head, and the truth of it. “No. its just is much on me, I choose not to let you do this alone.”

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1207 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

SITWELL

* * *

The conversation had been pleasant enough, Agent Romanoff filling the role of hostess, while we waited for our real host to show up. Our wait ended finally with the sound of the elevator pinging upon its descent and the sight of her on Captain Rogers arm is they step into the living room. _So much different then the energetic, sweet, naive young woman I expected from my memory._

 

Since we are all 'mostly' gentlemen here, I rose from the white couch to greet her, hesitating with the gesture portion. I allow her to take the lead and dictate what she considered appropriate, since this is the first time I’ve seen her since her 'awakening'. They did inform me she changed, but I’ve always found it best to avoid presumption. The handshake is a strange, but very welcome change.

 

The urge, born out of habit more than anything does takes some effort to crush, resisting the familiarity of calling her 'Agent Elaine' like I used to, and calling her what she apparently goes by now “Lady Arnora.” is followed by a compliment “A dress? You look...can I say beautiful?” though that might be a bit to forward given the frown sinking into Captain Rogers features.

 

The feel of her grip on his hand comes to my rescue quickly, drawing his attention if not his eyes. “Jasper was my S.O when I 'almost' bought my first dress.” The shift in his expression and gaze makes it clear he is aware of the incident in question, and well he doesn’t reach a happy state he at least levels out at understanding acceptance.

 

“Yes” I nod in confirmation. I remember how excited she was at the idea of wearing a dress, and though how absolutely terrified she became at the sight of it. I sacrificed all the cash in my wallet to appease that store clerk long enough for the other agents show up and buy her permanent silence. I always felt a little bad about that, because it was a very nice dress, but if she didn’t know how she would react there was no way I could. “...and I have to say, you look lovely in blue, Indian fashions suit you.”

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1208 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

RUMLOW

* * *

She skips a verbal reply in lieu of a nod to Sitwell's compliment, then turns her attention to me at last as she extends her hand with my name on her lips. Taking her hand in return, I resist the urge to push my luck with a kiss on her knuckles. It's not really my style, and the small mountain of 'behave' speeches I got on the way here is still fresh in my brain. That being said though I don’t resist letting my eyes scan her dress and offering her a “Gorgeous” in response to my name.

 

She doesn’t bat an eye at the blatant flirtation, and neither does agent Romanoff. Sitwell being one of the pebbles in the 'behave' mountain, lets slip a small eye roll, but it's nothing compared to the annoyance off the Captain, or the death beam I’m getting from the granny in the corner. She's new, though I know her details, but I’ll have to look into her personally now that I’m gonna be here more often. Zero threat or not I like to know who doesn’t like me.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1208 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

Despite Rumlow's complete lack of manners, Nora to her credit handles the situation with practiced poise, proving once again that this isn’t her first rodeo, or her first asshole. “I take it you're here for the security portion of the deal?” Her question getting a 'yep' even before he lets go of her hand.

 

Turning her attention to Steve she proves even more, her understanding of the game. “Steve, would you mind taking Agent Rumlow to tour security and meet the staff.”

 

The sound of his “Me? Not Natasha?” makes it clear how thorough his surprise about that is, but I’m not at all. She's sending him, not me, not the Head of Security off with Rumlow out of necessity. She knows he's the kind of person Steve doesn’t like, but she's forcing them to interact so they can either fight or figure it out because she knows it needs to be done, and the sooner they level the field the better for everyone in the future.

 

“Natasha is a S.H.I.E.L.D Agent.” She answers, an excuse however reasonable and believable, meant to cover her real reasons without resorting to an outright lie. “I'd like her here for the negotiations.”

 

Even is much is Steve's feeling might disagree, he can't argue the logic of that. But after he agrees to it she also shows that she isn’t entirely without sympathy, promising to send me to join him is soon is she doesn’t need me here anymore.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1209 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

Watching Jasper track their departure, I answer his silent question when his eyes turn back to mine. “Teamwork takes work.” He agrees to that with a shrug, even if it doesn’t cancel all of his concerns. He is right to question rather it is a good idea or not. I'm not even sure. They might butt heads, but I trust in Steve enough to not actually let it escalate into physical violence. He cares too much about me, my opinion, and my wishes to risk disappointing any of them.

 

“Well then...” He steps aside and gestures toward the white cushions, and coffee table. “I suppose we should get started.”

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1210 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

RUMLOW

* * *

I waited through the uncomfortable elevator ride down to the basement, listening to him list, Bill Nye style, how the elevator was the only access to the basement and medical ward. How the house A.I actually three isolated systems, for the house, medical ward, and on site staff apartment. They are each shielded against EMP's and require fingerprint, retinal, and voice recognition to access. Then in terms of commutation there is a separate system that doesn’t interface with the others at all outside of verbally, but allows for wireless communication with the other STARK facilities.

 

That’s all super interesting, and pertinent to my job, but I put it on hold to deal with a bigger more personal concern, mainly this frustratingly awkward atmosphere. It's like being the wing-man on a bad date, and that’s just not going to work for me. “You don’t like me much do you Rogers?”

 

His fingers stop their trip to the wall panel, trapping me down here without access to the elevator back up, or the underground tunnel leading to the staff housing, is he turns around and crosses his arms in front of me. An imposing figure of strength, met with my passive eyes and calm demeanor. “I don’t like how familiar you are with her.” He confirms and elaborates all in the same sentence. “Or the way you're eyes dog her steps.”

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1211 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

It wasn’t the fist time I’ve done something I didn’t like to, but if it was what Nora wanted I was willing to suck it up and get it over with, however when he brought it up, that didn’t mean I intended to look away from it too.

 

Hearing my response he clears his throat and rocking back on heels he adjusts his posture for what may be a long conversation. “Look Captain, we...” he pauses, seemingly hunting down the right word, or lining out his sentence in his head. “Specialists don't spend a lot of time with 'people'. The take days off, go on vacations people, that’s not us. We're the 24/7 emergency response guys.”

 

“We tend to just spend time with each other, after a while we loss our normal social graces.” He continues, his tone coming about is close to an apology is I think I might get out a guy like him, if my evaluation of his personality is accurate as I believe it to be. “I’m really not trying to piss you off.” He adds before gesturing at me with a bit of humor in his smirk. “Though personally I can't pretend I wouldn't love to see how my training holds up to a Super Soldier, but making you my enemy is not my preferred kind of crazy.”

 

“That aside, I get it, you looking out for your girl.” I consider correcting him for half a second, but my tongue sticks at the suggestion, and forgets it entirely at the unfamiliar references that follow. “But while you might be Mario, she's not Princess Peach and I’m not Bowser. She can take care of herself.” he continues on. That statement is clear, concise and even, regrettably, truer then I’d like to admit “...and I pity the moron who try's to steal her.”

 

I didn’t even recognize the darkness that must have taken over my features before he raises his hands in a placating gesture. “I was there, at the park?” He adds the question to his tone, unsure if I was aware of that apparently “I saw what she can do, what she did, before their reinforcements showed up and we got separated.” The respect, and appreciation, return to his expression, along with the part I don't like.

 

“So yeah I like her, yeah I’m interested in her, in a couple ways.” He admits, before he admits something even more, which helps settle me feelings back in place. “I’m interested in all strong women a little like that, but the truth is I know she outclasses me is much is you do, if not more. If she really didn’t like the way I act or talk around her, she'd stop me long before you could.”

 

“I know.” _That’s the problem._ I said we'd just be friends. I said it was okay, I wouldn’t be a competitor for her love, I wouldn’t compete against Bucky, because it was Bucky, and I really thought I meant it. But then another man called her gorgeous, and she she smiled, and it hurt. It hurt, and it it made me angry, and I can't figure out who that anger and pain is for. _Who am I offended for? Who's this jealousy for? Bucky? Her? Or me?_


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1212 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

MADDIE

* * *

Out of the two of them, I don't like either of them on principal. They knowingly helped an organization hold a woman prisoner within a cage of lies and a sense of being beholden. Still, out of the two of them I have to admit I like the bald bespectacled one much better then the military thug.

He's polite and respectful, which isn't just in comparison to the other one. He has good manners and a gentle sense of humor, though its clearly tailored toward women. Given that he's a spy too though, that might just be situational. His flirtation, while still present is humble and more born out a sense of familiarity with the other women. Most importantly though, the only thing he looks at with hungry eyes is my cooking. That's the greatest improvement over the other one.

He made a small delighted sound at the first bite of one of those gingersnap crisps, and seemed to equally enjoy the mango citrus smoothie, also containing ginger. His taste buds keeping him from noticing the commonality of a certain ingredient, or wondering why.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1212 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

The world ending, the world being reborn through irrepressible change, the loose of friends and partners, all of that happened, and yet Jasper is still the same man I remember. Smiles, charm, and the same love of good food. Out of respect for that more then anything, out of nostalgia, I let him finish his snack.

Washing down the last bite of gingersnap, I watch him eye the glass almost in mourning at its emptiness for a moment, the moment warming me minutely before it fades at the clearing of his throat is he finally prepares to begin.

"So before we really get started, Pierce asked me to extend his gratitude. I'm sure he will repeat the sentiment in person next time he see's you. He did want to come himself, but the Council was adamant we negotiate terms before he is allowed to visit again." Pierce is who he mentions, the Council is who he mentions, not Fury, or S.H.I.E.L.D, even though I know they're in there. Pierce, who I sent away last time with sour tones.

Old words, the voice and accent so foreign to my ears now, and so familiar to my heart echo in my mind.  _An enemy, however small, is to be feared._  Those word were uttered in encouragement when they were first spoken, but now they feel like caution and concern. Fear, when it becomes a motivating force, can can make a monster of a mouse, and I learned long ago how dangerous 'mice' can be when they act in unity.

"How I make my executioners tremble." I murmur under my breath, continuing on before he can dispute that with hollow words. "How can I make them calm again?"

"Arnora" Even just my name makes the placating intentions clear before he continues. "I know the Councils held an extreme view on you in the past but..." Before I've had enough it, and silence him with a shake of my head.

"Don't." I'm erring on the side of pessimism, to prepare for the realism. "They see me is a piece of meat, an exotic breed if you want to sugar coat it. Either way I'm going to be butchered or protected, I'm not one of you, I'm not human. It's not hard to ignore that I'm not part of your 'tribe', and I've seen just how horrifically humans tend to treat other 'tribes'."

"We'd would never let that happen.' Natasha adds, resting her hand on mine in a comforting gesture, which might have had some success if the seemingly blind optimism I think I sense in those words wasn't so incredibly confusing.

"You say that like altruism means bullet proof now?" I cock my head a bit with those words, my eyebrows telling her just how perplexed I am by the shift of her views. Then I let the confusion turn into a bitter smirk. "Even I haven't learned how to achieve that."

It might be unwise to expose a weakness like that, but S.H.I.E.L.D has HYDRA's old files, so they already know my first encounter with the Red Skull ended with bullets and a bleeding stomach. I can't still my hand against the memory in time, it shielding my stomach is if there's another gun in the room, shielding my baby, my terrifying blessing, is if there is actually a physical threat instead of just the figurative one in the room.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1214 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

JASPER

* * *

"I understand" I offer, choosing practicality and realism instead of positivity since she doesn't seem very interest in optimism anymore. "I get your concerns. They're valid, but..." I let my eyes shift to Natasha too for a second, asking her backing on this, and confirming it at the same time. "is Pierce's proxy and a representative of the Council..." I slide the file with the hard copy of the agreement across the table to her is I continue. "I can tell you that possibility is incredibly slim at this point. If it makes you feel safer I'm sure Natasha can give you the same reassurance in regards to the Director, and S.H.I.E.L.D"

With that sentence spoken, she turns her gaze to Romanoff in question, and gets a nod in return. "It's true. Fury always advocated treating you well, before anyone else did. He's always viewed you is a potential candidate." The idea of me is an Avenger might almost be amusing, if I could decide how I felt about that. Given who they formed because of, I cant imagine what i would have done, what he would have done to me. "And is it stands now..." If she noticed the storm in my mind, which I'm sure she did, she ignored it on courtesy. "...no one wants to enter a inter-agency battle against the Avengers, and it would be a battle. Too many of them care too much about you. The loses far out way the nonexistent gain."

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1215 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

"I don't want them to fight anyone for me" I admit, adding Jasper to the list of everyone else who already knows that. "I don't want to fight anyone."  _I've never wanted to fight. I a_ dmit to myself is well, again. That honesty has to stay silent though, even if would benefit my quest for peace. That honest labels me weak, and that's more then I can give them.

"Well, I cant promise you never will again" That prickles against my a little, not quite a sting, but still a sensation. I'm not sure why, I knew that truth already, but my emotions for whatever reason, still felt the need to be disappointed and offended. "But I can promise if you have to, you won't be doing it alone anymore" I smile at that, the expression seeming to hide the heavy question of inevitability forming in my mind.  _And how long will 'anymore' last this time?_

"Rumlow?" I ask instead, seeing in his eyes that he too finds it absurd how much subtext can fit in that mans last name.

"Yes, well..." He shrugs, pausing just long enough to also include a polite nod of thanks is Maddie sets out another glass. "Rumlow's definitely expressed his interest, and it's open to consideration. But STRIKE is part of our elite division, so there will have to a thorough evaluation of your combat skills, and extensive military training before you even qualify is a candidate, his sponsorship or not."

The words 'open to consideration' come with a silent implication of who, which he offers before I am forced to verbalize the question. "Fury is on board with it, this was always his goal after all, but he recommends we ease you in. Pierce however thinks we should fast track your recruitment, get all the technicalities out of the way before the Council can changes their minds again, and after you have the security the comes with being a 'real' agent, you can take is long is you need. Councilman Malick favors that approach too."

_Hurry up and wait._  This isn't my first encounter with that practice. I married soldier once, I was an 'agent' once, or so I let myself be deceived into believing. I was a friend of a soldier once, a civilian who didn't quite how to do that, who still learning. Steve's who I'm thinking about now, who I'm considering, because I've already made my decision.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1216 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

JASPER

* * *

"And what do they recommend about the Captain?" If anyone knows the gravity of the question it's the Asgardian woman in front of me. We all knew, even with his current cooperation that Captain Rogers would be an obstacle, rather it was a speed bump or a road block was uncertain, but his protectiveness made any other possibility extremely unrealistic. That was even before the STRIKE Captain was added to the equation.

There were a few suggestions, but the one that garnered to most approval came from Fury, which makes sense given he had the most contact with the Captain. "You'll have to persuade him, but the best idea we've come up with is letting him train you first. The Council can't, and neither can I for that matter, think of a more effective way to reassure him of your ability to defend yourself. Its the best way to prove your skills, against his own."


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1444 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

When we got back she talked, she smiled, she shook hands and said she looked forward to seeing them again soon. Then when Jarvis informed us they were out of the house and leaving the property, she threw one of the coffee table books at the gas fireplace and let out a harsh laugh.

If that sudden shift wasn't alarming enough, she followed it immediately by dropping back down into the white cushions, and hiding her face in the cradle of her hands.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1444 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

I can feel him in front of me before I can really hear him, his silence the loudest sound in the room before its replaced by his quieter, concerned voice uttering the syllables of my true name.

"I'm sorry" I whisper after I breath out a frustrated sigh. I didn't mean to act on that outburst. I'd been holding back the fuel from the fire through the whole meeting, since Jasper's suggestion. Once he was gone I just couldn't contain it or quell it any longer.

"It's nothing you've done." I could see that worry in his eyes where he squatted in front of me, and the relief that flooded in afterward, making the tide of my guilt swell a little higher at putting that worry there in the first place.

I can also see the questions forming, a list of them growing in his mind, and deserving of answers, but also deserving of privacy. Before he can summon the air to transform them from thoughts to conversation I turn my eyes to Natasha.

I don't even have to speak my request. "We'll arrange you a late lunch." She informs, not asks of Maddie. Her tone commanding her absence, is well is communicating a secret. She knows I'm not feeling well, she knows what I want among the ingredients in whatever they send from the kitchens. Maddie knows it too, behind an air of dissatisfaction that hides her concern.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1445 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

Is focused is I was on Nora even I didn't miss the subtext of that exchange, or maybe I didn't miss it because I was focused on her. Either way I understood she wanted to discuss whatever this was in private, and contented myself to hold my tongue until we we alone.

Even with the door barely finishing it's click, she beats me to it, having clearly been anticipating me questions. "I was so wonderfully stupid, I don't know why I expected anything else?"

I started speaking, the reassurance dancing of my tongue is I told her that whatever it was they wanted from her we could handle it, before my words got cut of at the 'from' as she turned what should have been a 'her' into "you" and clarifying it, albeit confusingly into "Steve, they want me with you."

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1445 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

Correcting the subtext before it can settle in place I press on. "They want me to train with you, to let you train me." And adding more subtext, which is more speculation then fact due to it not originating from me. "They...they might want me to be the lure that brings you back to S.H.I.E.L.D."

The confusion melts out of his eyes from the force behind the clench of his jaw. "Bring me back to S.H.I.E.L.D?" He barely suppresses the snarling edge of his tone in his moment of offense. "I haven't left, what is thi..."

"Not officially" I interrupt, silencing the righteous, but ultimately hollow indignation "Not yet, but your thinking about it." He looks surprised, perhaps because I noticed that, or perhaps because he hadn't really yet. "If I said jump,you wouldn't even ask how high."

His first word chokes off with a 'eh' sound, the words canceled by the speed of his mind, and the realization of the truth. Instead after he shifts his head and sniffs softly in frustration, he goes with something else that's just is obvious. "Nora, I'm not going anywhere."

"I know." I say calmly, yet the frustration invades my next sentence. That's the problem!" Frustration born of guilt. Don't you...I'm going back to S.H.I.E.L.D, I'm..." My decision has consequences, and I was prepared, accepting of the ones that would affect me, except I'm not the only one, I never really was. "I don't have a choice, not really. They know you'll come with me, no matter what. I'm taking away your choice, by acting on mine, all so they can have what they want."

"What do they want?" is all he says. He doesn't sound mad, or upset at all. He sounds calm, and resolved to it. He sounds like it's nothing to him, when it should be something.

Whats worse, is what I feel. I should talk him out of it. I should convince him at the very least to put more thought into it then just following me. But I don't, because I'm relieved that he intends to follow me. I'm glad that it means well stay together, I'm happy I don't have to beg. I'm a coward for letting the matter drop, and answering his question instead. "What any of you want, what all of you want, what THEY wanted." Its a small miracle how little I shudder at the memory of them. "To make some form of super soldier out of me, one way or another."

The reminder of them brings another person to mind, and maybe it's only because of that, that Steve's words affect me so much or sound so much like someone else voice. "Ill never let them hurt you Nora."

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1447 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

She looks inexplicably sad before her lips tighten into a harsh smile, and she hides her eyes behind the fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "I wish you would stop saying that."

I'm not sure what just happened in her head, but going on the assumption it had something to do with doubt I offer her a sincere "I mean it" only for her to drop her hand away from her face and roll her eyes is she turns them on me with what looks a lot like exasperation.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1447 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

"I know you mean it!" I snap a little before I force myself to settle back down. My angers just anger, and it doesn't deserve to be directed where it doesn't belong. "He meant it too." James memory runs across my heart, and looking in Steve's I can see I'm not alone in that." Everyone always means it, but that doesn't mean they can actually do it. Intentions don't just match reality, not even yours, not even mine."

"You, Duncan, Bucky, Ormarr.." I can see confusion at that name, Steve not knowing about my viking blacksmith, guardian, and friend "and entire village in Norway, they all meant it when they said they'd protect, and only you are still alive."

"A village?" That confusion deepens, and is tinged by the presence of growing horror. I dint tell him about the village either I realize after its already out.

"Yes." Telavag, a name that even now, for all the sorrow it inspires, doesn't mean anything to me beyond the word. "HYDRA massacred an entire fishing village, just to have me." I went to that cave to die, but my death was the only one that didn't happen there. "They were guarding my sleep, worshiping me, and I didn't even know about them until after they were all dead. Letting people protect me only gets people hurt."

He says my name, all argument and stubborn resolve filling his voice and eyes, yet one "shut up" from me steals his voice. "Its true. I've seen that truth span centuries. I'm not saying you can't protect me, I've seen that truth too, I can't stop people from doing that."  _Short of perhaps crippling them_  "But I can stop depending on it, I should stop depending on it. I want too."

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1448 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

Her tone, more then her words with how full of consideration it sounds, says more that last sentence and gives me questions of my own. "Are you saying you want me to train you?"

At my words her eyes lift up, wide a little in an moment of unprepared before they drop back a fraction and dance back and forth in thought, her mouth slackening just a little. "No..." She finally answers, but with uncertainty, and immediately changes it. "Yes." Then twice "Not yet. I cant yet." And then again to what is a maybe at best.

_I don't understand? she's calm, and then angry, she wants it and doesn't, whats in the way?_ "Nora, I thought we sharing things, I thought we were past this, why?"

I didn't quite mean it to be an accusation, but it was almost impossible for it to sound like anything else, and she reacted accordingly, her words full of conflicted frustration. "Because I cant share everything, not yet, because they're better at secrets then you."

Them, S.H.I.E.L.D, the people she's cooperating with. Is much is I hate to admit it, she's right that they are better at keeping, and seeing secrets and lies then I am, and in that logic is also right to not share all her secrets with me, but it still hurts, among other things. "Your scared of them? Still?"

"This is my prison." She reminds me, following the statement with a rhetorical question. "Why wouldn't I be wary of my guards?"

"No" In lieu of an answer from me she provides her own, for my benefit as much as hers I think. "I need them. I need them." That she said it twice just makes me more certain she is trying to convince herself. "You have to trust me. I know what I'm doing, I'm not like I was before, I'm not just playing it by ear."

"I do." I agree, pretending like her referring to herself is a different person then the Nora I remember doesn't still bother me. "I just hate that you have to play these games at all, I'm worried."

"I grew up in the halls of castles and kings." She says with a soft and sardonic smile, meant to lighten the mood, but all I can think is of a man who intended to be a king.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1449 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

The humor, which wasn't really there at all, evaporates farther out of his features "That doesn't help. You deserve better." Despite his attempt to follow it with positivity, which I regretfully am quick to crush.

"No. I don't deserves anything." It's not that I'm trying to hurt his feelings with this, it's just a hard learned truth that I've know and lived by for a long time "That's one of the first lessons I learned here on earth. I have to earn it, and I need you to help me do that, I need you to not get in the way."

"Steve please" My tone shifts from the deliverance of fact to the sound of a friendly request, and a plea "I'm gonna need you. I hate it too..." S.H.E.I.L.D, the Council, STRIKE, the compromising. "But I need you to suck it up, and support me even if you don't understand or agree, I need you to be my ally or Christ help me..." Asgardian or not I've been earth long enough to invoke their gods, certainly over those of the Norse, most of whose deities I had personal cause to hate. "I'm gonna break Rumlow's nose eventually."

At that he barely tried and barely succeed in holding in his snicker, and letting the sound fade away, but not his smirk "I don't know how you haven't yet."

"Castle halls." I remind him, getting a combination of a nod and a shrug from him before a bit of curiosity.

"Will you tell me about that?" He asks, with a voice of confidence, countered by the way his hands have vanished into his pockets, and the way his stance fidgets. His curiosity about Asgard is justified, but so his wariness on the subject given how I've been both tight lipped and even hostile about the subject before.

"I'll tell you what I can, whats mine to tell." There's quite a bit about Asgard's, people, places, and practices I'm reluctant to share. Quite a few things that could be dangerous to reveal, could be dangerous to the quite a few people I still cant help but care about.

* * *

SATURDAY, JULY 7TH 2012

1450 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"That's all I want" I might have accepted with a bit to much enthusiasm, given the slight arch of her brow, which grows again is I risk another request "Well, that and maybe more time with you?"

"More time?" She repeats, rolling the question over in her head is if its confusing. "Steve we live together?" or maybe amusing.

"Yeah, I know" I answer to quickly again, chastising myself without an effect on the awkwardness that is just flooding out. "But, we did before too, and I was thinking, maybe we pick up 'documentary and dinner' night where we left off?"

"Documentary and dinner night?" Her eyebrows crest higher, before dropping back down in contemplation is her fingers rest over her mouth. That bothers me the most because I cant tell what she's thinking from her eyes. But when the pull away and reveal a smile my concern turns to happy relief. "You know, I'd like that. Do you even remember where we left off?"

"Uhhh,..." I wasn't expecting the question despite having said the words when I formed the question, and can feel my cheeks color with embarrassment because I can in-fact remember. "How William Shatner Changed the World?"

And now, with that growing grin I know she can too. "It sounded important!" I defend myself earnestly. I picked that one from a list because of the title, and Wikipedia said it was nominated for an Emmy.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story on FANFICTION.NET under the same title and pen name.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

* * *

TUESDAY, JULY 10TH 2012

1105 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

"How do you feel?" Beyond his spectacles and pristine lab coat I listen is he asks 'the question'. The setting is different, the century different, and my role in that question different, but its still 'the question'. Once there was a time I asked that question, and I never thought I'd really have to answer it.

"P..." I stop the word barely into the first syllable, knowing it's wrong, but after living through so many centuries where the other option was impossible, it make the answer an instinctual one I have to resist. "Sick. Sick and irritable. I feel like...like I'm running on too much of something, or not enough. I feel like I'm operating just outside of myself."

"Like your actions and feelings don't seem quite normal?" The accuracy of his question implies he has some knowledge on the subject that I lack, and he takes my expression is a confirmation before he continues. "Mood swings are a normal symptoms of human pregnancy." which in lack of sufficient knowledge or options we've been forced to treat mine is for the time being, no matter how unwise we know that might be. "Your hormone levels are probably changing, and will continue too."

"Apologizes." He offers with a meek smile accompanying that sentiment. "I should have told you this when you told me of your morning sickness, but I'm still adjusting to what isn't common knowledge for you. Your nausea is also connected to your hormonal shift. Have you noticed anything else, a change in the way things taste or smell, any aversions to things that didn't bother your senses before? Trouble sleeping, aside... from the nightmares?" He adds after a considerate pause.

"No" I emphasis that with a soft shake of my head is I shift my weight on the hands resting on the cushions edges. "I don't think my sense of taste changed..." I let my eyes drift toward my knees is my mind drifts in thought, before they rise back to his patient ones. "Yet. And if its more then the nightmares stealing my sleep, I haven't noticed. Is this really all normal for human women?"

"Yes." He nods with what I imagine is meant to be an encouraging smile. "Didn't you say you had experience treating humans in the past?"

"Yes," I was a healer to viking warriors, women, children, mothers, sons. "and I didn't understand how you all survived back then either."

"Well we have." He huffs a little at my evaluation, shaking his head with notes of amusement and understanding. He might consider it an underestimation and prehaps mild insult, but he can see how I'd assume such fragility. "And we've gotten much better at it, I promise."

* * *

TUESDAY, JULY 10TH 2012

1106 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

BRUCE

* * *

"I know. I'm counting on it." She didn't mean the sound, is much is she didn't mean for me to hear it. When my ears recognized the hitch in her words though, my brain also recognized that my attempts at levity weren't cutting it and would likely be pushing the envelop on what was appropriate if I continued.

"You know, it's okay to be scared." I offer is I set down my chart, and turning a little on the stool to face her better. "Even expectant human mothers with normal healthy pregnancies can and are allowed to be scared."

"Did you know..." For a moment she simply looked at me, before she spoke those first three words, but their tone told me exactly how she viewed that attempt. "that the way vikings checked for punctures in the stomach or intestine was by feeding the patient strong onion soup and sniffing the wound. That's what your medicines like for me, don't tell me its okay to be scared." How inappropriate she found it.

My apology came is quickly is her own when it followed. "So am I. I..." She hesitates, something flashing across her expression that speaks of memories I'm not entitled too. "I come from a place where we have surgical nanites, and the practice of non invasive surgery is so ancient we don't even use that term anymore, it's just normal. We have elixirs and potions that maintain normal bodily functions in otherwise fatal can break down and regrow entire organs all in the peaceful span of a nights sleep."

"That's what I'm used too, that's what medicine should be to me. Now I have to depend on your medicine, where you..." The tremble reinserts itself in her words, and this time, even though I don't really know for sure, I know what memories inspire it. "...still cut people open with knives and saws, and put them back together with string so yeah, I'm a little fucking terrified."

"We're not going to do that, unless we absolutely have too." I promise her, even if the last part puts a visible degree of dread in her eyes. I'd like to avoid it, but I'm not going to lie to my patient about the possibility, and I did promise to do everything in my power to save her life. "C-sections are a last resort, even for our people, and given your history, the only way I would ever do that without your consent, is if I couldn't rouse. If I tried ever thing else at least three times, and it was a case of life or death."

"All things considered though" The change in my tone catches her attention, even more so when I lightly take her hand near her right knee in my own, the grip soft and ready to relinquish its touch with even the slightest suggestion from her. "I think you don't give yourself enough credit." After everything I've learned about this woman, and everything I've seen. I think she's incredibly brave. "The other guy or not, I think it's amazing you haven't even tried to throw me into a wall yet."

* * *

TUESDAY, JULY 10TH 2012

1108 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

_There is power in your bloodline child. Someday that power may serve the kingdom, but power is only useful when it is controlled. You must be controlled. You will be a tool of the Kingdom, and a tool does not serve itself. it does not matter what a tool thinks or feels, it's only purpose is to be used. Do you understand?_ I remember that, I remember hearing those words day after day. I remember saying 'yes' to that question. I was 12, I haven't even been tested for my gifts yet. They told me that just in case, they drilled that into a child, just in case. That I didn't have the right to my own feelings and thoughts, not if they didn't match my masters, my Kings. They stripped me down, just in case, and I was proud to be. I thought it good and honorable, to smoother myself, for the good of the Kingdom. "Yes, well... your not the only one who had to master themselves."

"Fuck those assholes." Both the intensity, and the words themselves bring me up short, enough so that I'm only vaguely aware of him squeezing my hand tighter in comfort, is his eyebrows stiffen more in disdain or disgust.

"Fuck. Those. Assholes." He repeats, punctuating each of the first three words. "I know why I had to master me, and that's my fault, I can't blame 'him' on anybody but me. But you're young..." He hesitates, not really sure where I land in terms of Asgardian age "...ish, and is I understand it, you've had these abilities your whole life, you were born with them. You were born the way you were supposed to be born. So who ever made you think there was something wrong with you, something that had to be controlled and crushed, fuck them, their assholes."

"I thought you couldn't be angry?" The words would sound nervous, if you only acknowledge there context, and not the tone or the tenuous, somewhat confused smile that accompanies them.

"Not getting angry isn't my secret" He answers back with a shrug and a smirk, is if I'm not the first and wont be the last to make that mistake. "Not feeling anger is impossible, and stupid. Every race who has a word for a feeling has those feelings. Your feelings may effect your powers but not letting yourself feel something, that might be more dangerous long term then anything those emotions create. Fuck those assholes."

* * *

TUESDAY, JULY 10TH 2012

1109 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

NATASHA

* * *

Of all the sentences I might have imagined walking in on, hearing Bruce enthusiastically deliver a 'fuck those assholes' was surprisingly not on the list. "I see J.A.R.V.I.S told you were expecting company." And from the way Arnora's eyes narrow, neither was mine.

"To the contrary Miss Romanoff," J.A.R.V.I.S cuts in, apparently to correct my assumption. "Is you requested, I've honored you're right to deliver the announcement in person. I do believe the 'assholes' Dr Banner is advising miss Arnora to forsake..." ever proper he skirts around the vulgarity "...are more of a generalization then a specification. for now?" and even, amusingly, adds a bit of his own speculation on the end.

"Thank you J.A.R.V.I.S" She answers, giving the A.I. her usual courtesy before letting her attention shift entirely, and the implications of my words. "Now who is this person I'm not going to be happy to see?"

"Actually, you'll probably be happy to see one" I disagree, recalling the woman downstairs. "and very happy to see the other."

"Are they S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Is the next question on her check list, but when all I do is nod a yes, she follows it with one that's just is much a statement. "You're not going to tell me."

"No." I confirm despite the rhetorical nature. "You'll like the surprise though, I promise." I offer with a smile, before I give her one other very important detail she'll need to know. "They're only level 5."

"And level 5 means...?" Not being familiar with S.H.I.E.L.D's inner workings like the rest of us, it's Banner who expresses that curiosity, and I leave it to Arnora to answer, seeing as she's already turning her gaze to him in response.

"it means they don't know, about me." She answers, then her tone and expression shift to match the slightly frustrated sigh that precedes her next words. "It means I'll have to lie."

"Actually it means you'll have to decide if you lie." There's a lot of curiosity in her eyes at that correction, which I leave unanswered behind my smile.

* * *

TUESDAY, JULY 10TH 2012

1110 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

Warm brown hair, straightened with the ends curling inward in a wave, sitting against a white collar that's folded over a sweater, with a British accent "This is so...thrilling."

Seeing her I actually retreat a few paces back, letting my approach be hidden by the barrier of the elevator shaft blocking her view into the dining room and the stairs I descended. _Her, they brought her._

"Do you want me to tell her to leave?" Seeing my hesitation Natasha drops her voice to a whisper, making it hard to tell if it's in jest or seriousness, but my threat to break her arm if she dares is more serious then joke, despite her amused smirk that she answers it with is she leaves us alone.

"Jemma." Even when I stepped out into view, she didn't notice. Her attention was to fixated on the house and technology around her, like I should have expected it to be.

* * *

TUESDAY, JULY 10TH 2012

1111 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

STEVE

* * *

"Are you sure this is okay?" I ask Natasha is her steps politely announce her presence behind me. They said S.H.E.I.L.D was coming, new S.H.I.E.L.D, different S.H.I.E.L.D. Another liar, in different skin. That's all I heard, even when Natasha said this one wasn't one of the liars, it's still all I let myself hear, let myself believe. Even when she told me the gift this Agent was bringing, the surprise I was not allowed to ruin, I still couldn't quite let myself believe it. Even though this woman apparently lacked the clearance to know about Nora, I still wanted to believe it was a lie. I think it was the words scientist, genius, biologist, that gave me the most pause. How could a person like that not know, how could Nora be okay with them, now that she did.

All those doubts continued is I waited for this woman to show up, and they just got worse. After what Rumlow said, after everything. I told myself I was only watching because I wanted to be ready to be there if Nora needed me, that I was doing this to be a good friend. But I couldn't make myself believe that either.

Even is Nora approached the oblivious young woman in her study of the house around her, startling the other women enough that her sneakers actually left the floor a little is she spun around. Even when she offered up a meek wave is she started into an embarrassed greeting "oh! hello! Your..."I couldn't let go of my doubt. It was Nora who made me let it go. The young British agent choked on her greeting when Nora closed the last two feet and yanked her into a hug. "Oh my, were hugging now. Were hugging? We are! We're still hugging, okay, this is okay." She was happy to see her, she was okay with her. That should be what I want, so why does that leave me so upset?

* * *

TUESDAY, JULY 10TH 2012

1112 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

I don't know if I planned to restrain myself, I don't know if I really intended anything, I didn't have time to think about it. Just, when Clint told me not everyone knew, that not everyone and everything was a lie, I cried with relief, and Fitz-simmons, Jemma, she was part of that relief. Invitations to office Christmas parties, TV marathons, hot chocolate made over bunsen burners, and gingersnaps. Her and Fitz were some of the first friends I made that weren't hiding an agenda. All of my time with them was honest, innocent, and genuine.

I offer a 'sorry' after I finally collect myself and set her free of my squeeze, watching her eyes widen is she waves off my apology in protest. "No! heavens no, don't apologize to little old me. You can hug now, this is wonderful. Hug away." she offers, actually seeming to shift to position herself for a better hug.

"I'm good." I reaffirm is I catch one of her hands to still it, and her attention with it.

"But you can touch people now? " Her eyes skip between mine and the touch in question at least half a dozen times is if she's waiting for the curtain to lift, each time it doesn't making her even more please that it hasn't and wont. "That's amazing. I'm so happy for you. How long has it been?"

"A week and two months." And then I watch is the math works itself out in her head, and the realization comes with it. A week and two months ago I was a prisoner, a week and two months ago we were at war. "It's okay." I squeeze her hand softly, aware that me being the comforter is a strange twist for both of us. You don't have to stumble, I'm dealing with it."

"Is it okay? Really?" She asks anyways, my efforts predictably failing to reassure her. "I mean, you look alright" she lets her eyes scan me in examination, the doctor in her looking for any tells to counter my assertion. "but by all accounts, Loki was a mentally unstable man without any compunctions against murder and brainwashing."

There's some relief in her words. They give me some idea of what she knows, some idea of what I can tell her without bringing trouble her way. "He was surprisingly good to me."

She looks very skeptical at that is the words stop her examination, not that I blame her. Everyone's assumed Loki was a monster to me, everyone, despite wishing me the best, wished that too. Its easy to hate a monster, no one wants the monsters to be men, no one wants the monsters to be like them. "All things considered, he was quite kind is a captor, and treated me well up until it was time for him to take what he needed from me." But of all the sins Loki's committed, I'm not going to add my lies to the list.

"Well, I suppose, even an alien tyrant would still have the decency to treat Royalty with respect."

she said that quickly, the disdain driving the begrudging compliment off her tongue before the taste could settle in, and that's why I think she let it slip, because when I asked her "Did you just call me Royalty?" she looked like the cookie jar just shrunk around her hand.

"Uh! no" she squeaks is she scrambles. "I just mentioned Rhyolite, it has some fascinating properties, did you know it may have any texture from glassy to aphanitic to porphyritic..."

Watching her flail with the science rolling of her tongue was amusing, is if it could shield her from what ever consequences she imagined were coming was honestly amusing. But only for a moment, then seeing her distress just bothered me, because she has no reason for it. "Jemma."

"Please don't ask me this." She pleads nervously, is her eyes flicker to either ends of the hall leading out of the room, and even to the walkway of the second floor above us. "I know whatever it is, it's classified, and agent Romanoff is here somewhere, along with what I imagine are a large amount of equally terrifying men and..."

"Jemma!" To get her attention I throw more authority behind the use of her name, a decision I'm not sure of the wisdom of, given her admission. But a decision that works. "No one well touch you. I would never let them hurt you."

"Well..." She goes on, a little less nervous, but not quite completely placated. "No ones told me, so I'm clearly not supposed to know."

"But you think I'm Royalty?" I continue right along, not having the desire or need to bring up the clearance levels with her, just the need to know why she thinks there should be a crown on my head.

"Well, I do. Fitz..." She utters his name with a lingering bit of hesitation, is if concerned it might have consequences for him. "Thinks that you might have been the ancestral guardian of some ancient Asgardian technology. That's how the Tesseract was originally found after all. I mean, i'ts got to be one of the two, all the evidence we've..."

She words trail off again completely, crushed by the nervousness I see creep back into her eyes before I repeat my reassurance. "No one is going to hurt you."

"Can I get that in writing?" She pleads despite it, her smile tight and hopeful is her voice jumps a few octaves. I shouldn't let it out, but hearing that makes me chuckle, before I clip it off with an exasperated sigh.

"JA.R.V.I.S" Even though I don't have too, habit has me turn my head toward the panel hidden in the walls. "Please inform Agent Romanoff that I will never accept any harm coming to Agent Simmons, in anyway."

"Of course Miss." I also feel my appreciation for the A.I grow at his absence of my name. I didn't tell him too, I didn't even think of it, but all on his own he inferred that rather or not I shared my true identity was something I was still debating. There's a distinct kind of pain in recognizing that truth. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Would you like some tea Jemma?" I let the question act is a distraction, for both of us.

"Uh" Momentarily thrown by the question, and i'ts normalcy it takes her a second to offer J.A.R.V.I.S an actual answer "yes please, something Ceylon or Assam, PG tips if you have it" and then another to remember her manners. "Oh and thank you."

"Now." After J.A.R.V.I.S returns her gratitude with a 'you're welcome' I bring her attention and the conversation back on track. "This evidence you collected?"

"Uh, well Fitz and I didn't really collect anything" Her words start slowly, but gain in confidence with each one that doesn't bring her harm. "We just remembered things, and with the recent events, we put couldn't help but put two and two to together."

"We didn't question your history at the time" She continues, referencing what once was 'my life' with an apologetic shift in her expression, but not lingering on it out of wise respect. "It seemed logical enough, and we had no reason to doubt something everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D knew. But the company you kept was still highly unusual..."

"A level one, spending time in the company of Hawkeye..." I confirm with a nod. "... the Black-Widow, and Captain America. You thought they were my bodyguards."

"It would make sense" She continues, seemingly confident in her theory, and intent to bolster it with facts. "if you were the descendant of some sort long lost Royal family, or a potential heir to a throne..." S.H.I.E.L.D doesn't focus much on the inner workings of international politics they tend more to just work with or around it, instead of in it "But if you could open an  new alliance with S.H.I.E.L.D..."

She isn't wrong, in that her suspicions have merit, but there still wrong. I'm not royalty. At most, I might be the mother of royalty, if I'm lucky. "And Fitz thinks I'm a guardian of alien technology?" I change topics, to keep my thoughts from drifting to far down that dark path, and because I'm more interested in hearing his theory in all honesty, because that one seems to touch much closer to the truth.

"Well, it makes sense with Loki kidnapping you." Her demeanor shrinks a little even if her words don't slow at his name. She's tiptoeing around the implications of that name, ready to dance back from it at the first sign of distress. It's an unnecessary consideration, but I appreciate it very much.

"But I don't believe that one is strongly, since S.H.I.E.L.D was taking care of you long before we even considered the possibility of Thor." It's strange, I didn't want her to figure it out, it's better for everyone, for her, if she didn't figure out, but I'm almost disappointed that she didn't. "And personally I think the fact that you just told the worlds most dangerous woman to leave me alone, means I'm right. Am I right?"

"I'm not Royalty." I finally admit, watching her hope plummet, before I let out a hearty chuckle at the admission she lets slip. "You bet on this?"

Hearing my question her eye brows try their best to climb into her hairline, and her now free fingers barely succeed in covering her lips with their haste, before she finally lets out a meek "...No."

"What else did you 'not' bet on?" I ask with a smile, and enough humor in my tone to drown her concerns.

"Nothing, that's all." The relief that should have been there isn't, and her next sentences explain why my attempts failed. "Though there are some people at S.H.I.E.L.D which..." Her own words hesitate on her distaste, and given her searching eyes, maybe for my own benefit, but when I don't ask her to stop she continues. "They've taken bets about whether or not your amnesia or phobia were ever real to begin with, which if you ask me is very indecent of them given how much suffering and strife you endured trying to..."

Gossip and rumors, so close and far from the truth. The amnesia and phobia was always real, but the reasons behind it were always a lie. So close and far from the truth, the way to make a perfect lie. "It's okay Jemma." I finally speak again, catching her attention and ending her tirade. "That's gone too."

"It..." she hesitates, taking a moment to gather what I'm talking about, before another piece, a bigger piece, a more disturbing piece, settles into place too. "In the last two months and week?" I don't need to confirm that despite the questioning tone. "Did Loki...?"

"I wasn't like the others" That should be a comfort, but we both know it isn't by the way she takes my hands, surprised by herself, and still uncomfortable out of habit for my benefit, but not willing to let go. "But yes, Loki's responsible for that too."

"What Loki did to you?" She asks is a friend, and just a friend, not a S.H.I.E.L.D agent or a scientist. I wish I could answer is a friend, not a S.H.I.E.L.D agent or a liar. The words 'it's classified' never stung so much rolling off my tongue.

"Well, after everything he did" she pushes on with a sharp scowl. "to S.H.I.E.L.D, to all those innocent people in New York, to you... I wouldn't mind at all if Asgard execute him." I didn't expect her words to sting more.

"I would." My response shocks her, and in a small part of my heart, it surprises me to but it's true. "I want him to live forever." I can't tell her why, but I do, I hope Loki never dies. I hope they don't kill him. I pray for his life, I pray I don't drop dead, at the edge of an ax that never touches my skin. If they kill Loki, if they execute him, I'll die too. Maybe in my sleep, or maybe mid sentence, my empty shell falling into the hands of my screaming friends. My baby will die with me, suffocating, is it chokes on still blood and rots inside me, is my autopsy breaks the news. "You shouldn't go around praying for death Jemma, it's not you."

"Eh.." The hostility, however subdued beneath my confusing words gives her more pause then she's shown so far. "I didn't mean... I know there's things I... it's just... he changed you so much and..."

"It's okay to be angry." At least before I take pity on her again. She can't be blamed for what she doesn't know. She cant be blamed for hating what Loki tried to do to her world, what he did do to her world. "I'm angry too. I want vengeance just is much is anyone. My life changed, forever, under the weight of his hands..."  _so many things she can never know._ "I've suffered irreplaceable lose just like so many others, so I understand."

"Well... maybe not all your loss has to be irreplaceable?" Where my brows furrow, hers crease in an entirely different way. "That's why I'm here, actually. We, uhm, we found him. Your little Lord Bowie? Jareth...? The Goblin...King...?"


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
> 
> You can also find this story FANFICTION.NET on under the same title and pen name.

 CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

* * *

TUESDAY, JULY 10TH 2012

1119 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

Jareth, the Goblin King, my little Lord Bowie. Leave it to Jemma to go full fandom on my kitten. That thought makes me what to choke a bit on the tear inducing joy. The last time I saw him was right before I started tearing that room apart just to find some relief from the painful weight of realization, from visions of brown curls, wide green eyes full of laughter, and fat little fingers. Before Clint and Duncan came through the door, and wrestled me through a hole in the floor. Before Loki blew the base up. Before everything got so big, and fast, and heavy, and I stopped thinking about something so small.

In truth, I was aware that Steve and Natasha had adds out for his safe return, that they were looking and hoping, but I thought he'd died. I never had time for those feeling to really sink in, and by the time everything slowed down, they'd settled into a calm resignation, an acceptance of the eventuality of mortal life. Loki collapsed a bunker, where my kitten was likely still cowering under a bed, from the fear I inspired in him, and that was months ago without a word. But why would there be anything to hear? How would the body of a single kitten be identifiable under that much rubble?

Then there's Jemma, standing here smiling, referencing pop culture as she says brought my fur-baby back to me, and all the crying I haven't been doing sneaks up on me with the subtlety of a battering ram.  _He's alive, I gave up on him and he's not dead, oh god, I gave up on him! He's been out there alone and scared, and maybe hurt, and I gave up on him!_

"Is he okay? Is he here?"  _I know she said that's why she came, but please god, last time I asked that question, yes wasn't the answer._

She nods a yes, before saying it too and I don't care which one is to which question. Then she says more, and I find I care about that. "He's in excellent physical condition."

That's a very specific kind of discouraging, and she can see it in my expression.

"Well, when he was found..." Her own expression starts with apologetic sympathy, and then slips into professionalism. "...he was emaciated, and exhibiting severe withdrawal symptoms, and psychological distress. If it wasn't for his rescuers determination, and the microchip, we wouldn't have realized it was him at all. "

"What do you mean?" Between Steve and Natasha's stubborn optimism, they had magazine adds, commercials, and even some billboards asking people to bring him home. "They put out pictures?"

"Yes" She nods sharply in agreement before her attention and hands turn briefly to her bag is she pulls out her phone, and lets her fingers dance across it with purpose. "But the pictures couldn't account for the changes." A change she shows me is she turns her phone to my view. Is she shows me my 'baby' for the first time in months. He's not baby anymore, baby's the wrong word, baby's the old word.

Seeing the question in my eyes after I finally pry them from her phone, she doesn't make me ask. "Is near is I could determine..." Her first sentence explains why she is here personally, and I'm glad. Its not just because we knew each-other a little, but because she's the one who examined my cat. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have do that. "...it's a result of exposure to Asgardian 'magick' or the withdrawal from it, but he seems to have gone through a period of accelerated physical growth, and is developmentally at least a year older then he should be."

"It's honestly incredible" At this point her tone turns from the utterance of facts, to fascination. "I wasn't able to definitively pinpoint the catalyst, but the effects drastically shortened the the cell-division cycle!" It's almost adorable, listening to Jemma's excitement over the science. "The ability to alter the rate of development like that is remarkable, if it wasn't temporary, and the effects so minimal by the time we reclaimed your cat, we might have even been able to determine how it is that Asgardians have achieved such longevity. Honestly I would love to be able to run tests on even a few of the samples we have of..." It looses that quality there.

I know she doesn't mean it, I know she doesn't know. But all I can think of is them, all I can see is them. All she is for a moment, is one of them. For one tiny, panic stricken second before logic catches up at tells me I'm wrong, Jemma is just another lab coat with a scalpel and a needle, and a merciless kind of academic curiosity. I feel so sick. This is my friend, and all it takes is a damn sentence.

"The psychological distress?" Those words come out much more clipped then I would have chosen them too, and the tone catches Jemma off guard, filling her eyes with confusion, nervous concern and maybe a bit of shame because she doesn't know what she did to bother me. I don't like seeing that in her, but I don't take it back either. "Oh, uhm, yes sorry." Not even when she apologize without need. "I was getting off topic wasn't I?"

"He hates people." She states bluntly before elaborating. "Specifically men, to put it simply. Even when he was given sedatives, if a man was present he would throw himself against the bars of his cage so violently his gums and paws would bleed, poor thing. Before they realized that it was the males that bothered him so much he even injured Miss Martin, the woman who found him. He didnt distinguish her when she attempted to disentangle him from her housemate. She was apparently very understanding about it though and refused any compensation beyond the medical expenses."

I don't have a clue who that woman is, and I honestly would have given her anything she asked for. Still, that was nice of her, maybe a little foolish, but nice.

"Nora? Are you alright?" In the absence of my notice, she took a step forward, because a tear took a trip down my cheek. I'm not sure which put the uncomfortable expression in her eyes more, that I'm crying again, or that I didn't notice the invasion of my personal bubble, when I used to notice that so dramatically.

"Yes, no, yes." I mumble, smirking a little after the first one is I wipe away the droplets, and watch her expression shift with each admittance. "I'm getting there. I'm getting pieces of me back." I finish the conflicting statements. "Thank you for bringing me one..., tell me again he's really okay?"

"Of course." she smiles through her nod. "I examined him personally and I wouldn't have brought him back to you any other way. We sedated him for the trip, and I gave him to your nurse."

God bless J.A.R.V.I.S, I don't have even have to draw a breathe before he tells me where they are.

* * *

 TUESDAY, JULY 10TH 2012

1123 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

MADDIE

* * *

"Are you sure? It might be better if he see's you alone first, he really wasn't fond of... anyone?" I recognized the voice approaching the door, the lilt of British coloring the accent, and the feminine youthfulness that I spoke with earlier. But where our earlier encounter was one of polite greeting and simple conversation, this one is a very confused dirty look, and my internalized sense of amusement.

This young scientist can't fathom, how this 'rather feral' kitten that she advised me to handle with extreme caution until it becomes accustomed to me, is laying quietly within its open carrier, and allowing me to lightly scratch its head, when she herself apparently had to spend over two weeks persuading it she came in peace before it was comfortable enough to allow that affection from her, and even then it would still growl at the sight of her.

It does that now too, that hum reverberating out of it's tiny body into my fingertips before it shrunk away from my touch, sinking back into the security of its carrier to determine the threat the new occupants of the room might pose.

My amusement grows is I hear miss Simmons draw an alarmed breath, and her eyes widen a little in concern when Arnora steps right into the space I step out of for her, and bending down at the side of the pool table, places her face level with the open carrier door and without hesitation offers her hand to the reportedly aggressively irritable feline inside.

* * *

 TUESDAY, JULY 10TH 2012

1124 HOURS

PEPPER POTTS CABIN, WOODSTOCK NY

2565 ROUTE 212

* * *

ARNORA

* * *

  _Poor baby, poor confused, afraid, hungry little baby._  I can feel it in him even without touching him yet. I've healed humans, felt humans more times then I can count, but I never just tended to man. Animals were among that lives that my magick touched. Domesticated or wild, for food or farming, goats, cows, horses, chickens, dogs and cats. I know what healthy should feel like in all of them, and I can feel the ache in him.

He's hungry, his body craves the taste of magick, it's starved for it, and he's frightened of it. He can smell it in the air, on his mama's skin, fouling what should be a comforting presence, and a happy reunion. Its like stumbling upon a snake, after 100 miles of nothing, and knowing the poison is there but is so is the food.

My little hero, my brave baby boy, my little heart breaker. I can feel him, his growl turning into a purr at some point I can't pin down, and his little claws prickling my skin is he wraps his paws around my wrist and nuzzles his cheek against my forearm. If I wasn't relaxing my shield a little to let him absorb my magick, he probably would have sunk his teeth through my skin by now.  _My poor poor sweet little baby boy._

I'd love to spend more time reconnecting with my kitten, but even though he is snuggling my wrist in joy, and purring against my skin, I can still feel the tension and agitation in him at the proximity of Jemma.

"Maddie?" Heairng the questioning tone, she offers me a nod, and an understanding smile is I carefully free my hand from Jareth's grasp, and close the cage door.

"I'll give him a little belladonna to help him relax." She offers is she shuts and latches the carrier door, whispering reassurances is Jareths voice and protests rise in volume. "shh now bel gattino..." Her language of choice shifting to Italian before shifting back. "you like aunt Maddie, you know you do. Lets go show you your new home, we'll get you some cream, hmm? You'll like that, I know you will, your mom spoiled you with the best, I know she did..." the words fading off into an unintelligible hum is she moves farther away from the closed door.

"Belladonna?" the questions reflected in her eyes, is well is the judgement, and the general disbelief. "she treats with plants?"

Yes. I prefer homeopathy over chemicals." That look of disbelief increases, and this time is directed a bit at me. Apparently Jemma has certain opinion on holistic methods, and a hard time believing an intelligent person like me would actually use it.

In a moment of pity, I spare her the need to flounder around being rude, and offer her an escape. "J.A.R.V.I.S? Is the tea ready?"

"Yes. Miss. Though I'm afraid we did not have the brand Miss Simmons asked for, but because she left room for options I took it upon myself to order Fortnum & Masons Royal Blend. It contains Ceylon and Assam, and is said to have a smooth, honey-like flavor. I hope that is acceptable?" Jemma offers a quick nod, and a yes, both delivered with a bit of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. Being taken care of by a butler is an uncommon enough occurrence that it must seem a little awkward, even before the butler is a computer program.

The blush only gets worse. "Also Captain Rogers would like to know if he could join you and miss Simmons for tea, and if you would prefer carrot cake or cheese cake with the tea."

Embarrassment which turns into an outright glare when I answer for both of us. "Yes, tell him' we' think that would be lovely, and to go with the carrot cake."

She's a little upset with me over that, I know she is, but I also know she'd kick herself for passing over this opportunity at a first hand conversation with the hero who knew her hero. I stack every conversation I remember having with her about how incredible Peggy Carter was on the pile of evidence.

On the pile as well goes how pretty her hair, clothes, and shoes are is I convince her to not give into cowardice. But after about a dozen times repeating 'that is long is she doesn't ask him for DNA samples everything will be fine' I stopped keeping count.


	30. Chapter 30

Apologies to anyone reading this, but in the story Arnora just recovered her cat, and real life my cat just died. She had immune mediated hemolytic anemia which was destroying her own red blood cells, and basically she expired from her organs suffocating due to a lack of oxygen. So for the time being, I'm not emotionally able to write. I do promise that I'm not abandoning this story, just taking a vacation from it.


End file.
